


One of the World's Unseen

by ab2fsycho



Series: I'm the Chip You're the Dip [6]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Deerper, Dipper is a fucking princess, I have a problem, I said it, LOOSELY based on monsterfalls au, M/M, catbel, dragon!bill, fricking shape shifters yo, i blame dragonfangz, i know i'm shocked too, it's gonna be platonic, let's face it kids, my problem is the number of aus, not what i should be, shape shifter au, strictly platonic, the art is too inspiring and i just imploded when i saw it, twins are 12, we still don't know how old fucking bill is, what am i writing?, wolf!wendy, yes - Freeform, you can't sway me here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-11-28
Packaged: 2018-03-14 23:59:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 31,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3430367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/pseuds/ab2fsycho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The shape shifter haven of Gravity Falls is supposed to be a safe place for shifters like the Pines twins to learn how to control their abilities. Apparently the town is also home to an unknown number of monsters, including one that has taken a particular interest in Dipper.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

When it rained, it poured for Dipper Pines. Nine times out of ten, while everyone called it rain he referred to it as something else. This was his life: a cosmic joke.

 

The conversation that had led to his current predicament had started as follows: “Lame!” Dipper threw his head back against the couch cushions.

 

“Alpha twin! Alpha twin!”

 

“ _Lame_!” he cried, a little more drawn out than before.

 

“You know who's cool?”

 

“Don't—”

 

“Mabel!”

 

“ _LAME_!”

 

“Chin up, dude. It'll happen when it happens.” He appreciated the reassurance, but was honestly beyond consolation at this point. It didn't help that Mabel was flaunting her cat ears and tail at the moment. Meanwhile Dipper was just . . . Dipper. Wendy tried to calm him, though, “Some shifters just start late, you know?”

 

He understood, but it just didn't seem fair. “She's a millimeter taller than me and she has her first form already. Why does she always get the first growth spurts?”

 

“Because I'm a girl. Doi! Girls grow faster.” Mabel waved her arms, then rolled onto her back and started purring.

 

Dipper sighed, still more disheartened than anything else. First Mabel randomly turns into a cat, then they're shipped off to Grunkle Stan's shack in Oregon, now he has to deal with this all day: the reminder that she had matured as a shape shifter faster than he had. Frankly, he was still a little in shock over the fact that they  _were_ shape shifters. A few weeks ago they'd been humans reading  _Harry Potter_ and wishing magic was real. Suddenly it was, and he wasn't experiencing it the way he'd imagined he would. To say he was disappointed would be an understatement.

 

“Look at it this way, Dip,” Wendy patted his arm, “you're aware of it. You can even go out looking for a first form. Instead of, you know, surprise you're a poodle!”

 

Mabel let out an obnoxious laugh that sounded suspiciously like a cat's meow. “Or a lamby lamby!”

 

Dipper's face reddened as he growled out, “We don't talk about the  _lamby lamby_ !”

 

“Anyway,” Wendy ignored Mabel's interruption, “that's what I did. Dad took me to the zoo and gave me some options, and that's how I got these.” She blinked and her human ears elongated into reddish-gray canine ones. They twitched at every sound before going back to their human shape.

 

Mabel snorted. “All I did was pet my cat!”

 

“Yeah, and a bat flew into my face. It's not always fun, kids,” Grunkle Stan interrupted. 

 

Meanwhile, Soos continued eating his sandwich unfazed. Dipper squinted. “Soos, you got a form?”

 

Between mouthfuls he answered, “Nah dude. Just a human.”

 

“One of the few here,” Grunkle Stan clarified. Gravity Falls, tourist trap and shape shifter haven. Almost no humans resided there and the ones that did were welcoming to the strange things that passed their front doors. Hence why the twins had been sent there. In Gravity Falls, they could get used to their forms enough to blend in. Right now, they were in the more volatile stages of shifting. This was also why Mabel was sporting cat ears and tail while still remaining mostly human. That tended to happen when one had no control over their forms. Grunkle Stan sighed and pointed out, “Look kid, consider it a blessing you're starting out later than everyone else. You still have time to be human for a bit. And who knows, you could be like your grandpa.”

 

“Oh yeah?” Dipper sulked, slouching with his head in his hands.

 

“Yeah, he was the last to get his first form. Once he did, though, he didn't have to wait long for more forms to shift into. I didn't get my next form until, like, four years after I matured. Meanwhile he was running circles around me.”

 

Dipper shrugged. “That's cool, I guess.”

 

“Dude!” Wendy griped. “I've been shifting since I was ten! I still don't have a second form, don't even!”

 

“If you end up with a second form before me, I will bake you a cake,” Mabel declared.

 

“Let me get my first one first, okay?” Dipper pleaded.

 

“Then I'll make you cookies. Sound okay bro bro?”

 

He would have been happy if she'd just stopped declaring herself the alpha twin, honestly. Either way, that conversation had been the gray clouds warning him of what was to come. It was what had led him to head out the next day and start doing as Wendy suggested. Gravity Falls was full of amazing creatures. Surely he could take to one of them. “It's better than waiting to turn into the goat,” he grumbled as he ate breakfast before setting out. While still jealous of his twin, he had to admit it was kind of funny seeing her in cat form playing in the bowl of milk she'd been given (upon her request, of course).

 

“Don't stray too far. In fact, don't lose sight of the shack,” Grunkle Stan warned.

 

Then Soos came in and added, “And don't try to find anything too big, dude. Big things don't work well for first forms.”

 

“Define big,” because if Dipper had his way, he'd find a bear if he could.

 

“Don't worry about it. Just stay within the shack's view. Got it?” Dipper didn't miss the warning look Grunkle Stan passed to Soos, as if the other man had said too much. Instead of addressing it, he just nodded and went on his merry way.

 

A few hours into his search and suddenly he was regretting the decision. The only animals he'd stumbled across had been a deer and a squirrel, and he hadn't listened to his great uncle. He was far from the shack and no closer to finding something suitable for a first form. He didn't know which was worse, honestly.

 

Actually, he did know what could be worse: running away from a terrifying monster. What was he doing now? Running away from a terrifying monster. This was the sudden heavy rainfall he should have known was coming.

 

Dipper's lungs burned and his sides ached, but he refused to slow down or stop moving. He didn't dare look behind him at the slithering . . .  _thing_ that was chasing him. Hearing it roar and crash through the woods was enough. Leaping over roots and ducking under branches, he was nearing a gorge and contemplating jumping in without looking before leaping. He was glad when ultimately he didn't, as the drop would have left him splattered on the forest floor. Running along the edge, he made his way towards the sound of falling water in hopes that maybe he could make some sort of escape there.

 

His legs felt like jelly. It was a miracle that he continued to move as quickly as he did. The creature still felt like it was bearing down on him, but the sound of water falling was growing louder than the creature breathing. He ran for the rush of water, all logic going out the window as he got ready to dive into the river and away from the creature. Just as he was certain he could escape, a clawed hand grabbed the back of his neck and lifted him off his feet effortlessly. Slamming him onto the ground, what little air he had was knocked out of him as the beast's body slid around and wrapped itself around his torso and legs. His mouth fell open, but no sound came out. The more the creature, a half-snake half-woman, constricted around him the harder it was for him to breathe. Everything inside him burned from both the overexertion and her squeezing him. Her bellows turned to hisses as her fanged mouth neared his neck. He leaned away, but that only resulted in her squeezing him tighter and he swore he felt something snap. Her jaws neared him again and still he tried leaning away. This time something sharp struck his chest and he let out his last gasp of breath in the form of a cry.

 

The cry didn't sound human to his ears.

 

He whimpered as the fangs finally reached their mark, holding him in place as the creature forced him to stay still enough for her to constrict further. He definitely felt more cracking in his body, black spots clouding his vision as pain gave way to numbness. Dipper's eyes started rolling to the back of his head, mind fogged over and thoughts unclear. Silence was quickly approaching, and it would be so easy just to give in and—

 

Fangs tore from his neck and the scaled body retracted. He fell limply to the ground as breath flooded his lungs and his sense of hearing returned just as a roar shattered his eardrums. He cringed, only to cry out from the pain of having almost been squeezed to death. The ground shook as his eyes slid open, blinking rapidly, he wanted to look for somewhere to hide. He heard the creature who had attacked him screeching, felt something much bigger and louder approaching, and just wanted to get out of the way before he got caught again. Reaching towards a patch of underbrush, he felt tears prick his still bleary eyes as he realized the part of him that he'd felt cracking had been one of his arms. It had been crushed at an odd angle while the beast had had him, and now it was nearly impossible to move it without screaming. Using the arm that didn't ache as much, he dragged himself towards cover and, kicking closer, wound up rolling into the greenery. There he lay still, holding his seemingly uninjured hand to his bleeding neck as monsters crashed around outside. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see something brown twitching. He didn't get the chance to address it, for as soon as he was undercover the damage that had been done caught up to him and he started slowly drifting off again.

 

It was at this point that Dipper accepted that the heavy rainfall wasn't rain at all.

* * *

 

The naga evaded him this time. Snapping his jaws at the beast that had ventured into his territory, he let her flee with a warning that if she returned it would be her end. No one hunted in his section of the forest. He claimed it, he owned it, there were no exceptions or excuses to be had. Whatever prey walked there was his and his alone.

 

His fury dissipated as the scales high up on his neck lay flat. Wings stretched to release the tension before resting back against his sides, tail twitching one last time before he inhaled to sniff out where the naga's prey ( _his_ prey) had gone. It hadn't made it very far, the tiny thing only having inched its way under a bush. He was half tempted to just uproot the whole plant with his jaws and toss it aside, but as soon as he saw the green cover quiver and then still he dropped the plan. The prey was unconscious. He could sense it.

 

It was weak. His spine bristled and his mouth watered.

 

Approaching with a low growl, he worked his muzzle into the bush and caught the scent of the small thing. Opening his mouth slightly, his teeth latched onto some of the prey's hairs and he pulled the thing out. The prey cried out, its noises strange yet familiar, but did not stir. Dropping it, he took a good look at the . . . .

 

A human boy. No, not human. Mostly human. Its ears were not human, at least. He hadn't seen one of these in ages.

 

The hunger he hadn't really felt to begin with disappeared as he dropped his muzzle to the child again and started inspecting him. Curiosity took over, giving way to fascination quickly. He recognized the inhuman ears as belonging to a deer. He exhaled lightly on one of them, marveling at how it twitched in response. Continuing his inspection, he rested his jaw on the boy's chest to feel his heartbeat. Weak. Yes, very weak. The naga had injured the boy, some of its blood getting on his nostril as he nuzzled the child's neck. He quickly licked the drop off his nose before searching the boy for scents and tracing where he had come from. He actually didn't recognize any of the smells he picked up, though something nagged at him that he should.

 

Drawing back, he lifted his head and glanced around. Ears flicked about, but he heard nothing out of the ordinary. He could sense no others like the child around. There were none but himself. Looking back down at the unconscious boy, he tilted his head to the side. What to do with it . . . ? Well he couldn't just leave it here, and he wasn't going to eat it. Humans he didn't mind the taste of. Deer he liked. But the child was neither, something in between and familiar. Leaving it injured and vulnerable felt wrong for many reasons. What if something else came along and decided it could hunt in his territory? That just wouldn't do.

 

The only solution seemed to be to take the boy with him.

 

Dropping his head, he opened his jaws and gingerly picked up the child. Careful not to disturb the arm the boy had drawn tight to its side, he managed to pick it up without making it cry out again. It did whimper slightly, but remained still and uncomplaining despite the fact that he could easily snap his jaws closed and destroy it. With the child safely in his grasp, he proceeded to head back towards his den.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHECK OUT THIS ART DRAGONFANGZ DID OHMYGODIAMCRY:
> 
> http://dragonfangz.tumblr.com/post/112167833994/sooooo-i-read-a-little-story-and-got-carried

“He's been gone for hours.”

 

“I'm going out to look for him.”

 

“Not without me, you're not,” the old man grunted. Mabel mewled up at her great uncle, who handed the shifted cat to Soos. “Watch her. Don't let her out of your sight.”

 

“You got it, boss,” Soos agreed.

 

Turning back to Wendy, Stan asked, “How good's your tracking?”

 

“I found my brothers at night in the woods chasing bugs once. Ten miles from our house.”

 

“Impressive. How fast can you run?”

 

“Faster than you, Mr. Pines.”

 

“We'll see about that.” He led her outside, then took a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, he had shed his human form for that of a bloodhound's. Turning his head, he was met with the golden gaze of the teenager he'd just been conversing with. While younger, the wolf was still going to have to be pretty swift to keep up with him. His arthritis was going to have to cripple him before he slowed down.

 

Dropping his nose to the ground, it wasn't hard to find his nephew's scent. The kid really needed to learn the meaning of personal hygiene, but that lesson could be tabled for afterward. First he needed to learn to listen to his great uncle when he said do something, or rather not to do something. In all fairness, the aggression with which he pursued the kid's trail was fueled less by anger and more by fear of what might be keeping him.

 

Dipper didn't know what was out there in the woods. Stan did. Baying when he caught the freshest trail, he and the wolf at his heels proceeded to track his missing nephew.

* * *

 

The first thing he felt upon waking was nothing but pain, pain, and more pain. His body ached and his arm practically screamed when he tried to move it. He was lying at an odd angle and at first he couldn't hear anything or open his eyes. His head was turned to the side awkwardly and something was . . . was something licking him?

 

Dipper's brow furrowed and he groaned at the repeated press of something hot against the part of his neck that was injured. He expected it to sting, but the feeling was actually soothing to the bite the beast had left on him.

 

Until he felt teeth against his neck. Large, pointed teeth.

 

Dipper's eyes shot wide and he unleashed what was supposed to be a scream but sounded like an animal's cry of agony. Scrambling out of the awkward lying position, he wound up tripping and falling on something huge. He landed on his likely broken arm and another animal cry escaped his lungs. Tears pricked his eyes as he rolled over and stared up at the creature that had been licking his neck and—

 

Dragon. It was a dragon.

 

Dipper almost screamed again, but every muscle locked painfully in place as he started to shiver. Staring up at the creature with wide, teary eyes, all he wanted to do was run but he was stuck watching the golden scaled thing watching him. His arm throbbed, and that was the only thing tethering him to reality as the water spilled down his cheeks and choked sobs came out. His shoulders sagged as he clutched the arm to his chest, closing his eyes and neglecting to look around and get some bearing on his surroundings. He was just about to double over and lie down on the ground, which was stone and cold, when something flicked beside his face and he let out another unfamiliar noise. Jerking his head to the side, he saw nothing. Something hit his other cheek and his heart almost stopped as he turned rapidly again only to find nothing. He went stiff all over again, heart pounding and breath ceasing as he couldn't figure out just what kept hitting his face.

 

He almost jumped out of his skin when a clawed digit easily bigger than his torso on its own (a digit he'd actually been lying on and had tripped over) reached for him. Falling backwards, he tried to scream the word 'stop' or 'no' only to have a noise not his voice come cracking out. Covering his mouth with his uninjured hand, he felt his panic increase as soon as he realized his nose was flat and definitely not the texture he remembered it being. Pain racking him from the amount of times he'd moved suddenly, he closed his eyes and vowed to just keep still as the dragon reached for him again. Dipper succeeded in not jolting when the claw brushed his ear and . . . his eyes slid open. His ear? Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that the dragon was showing him what had kept touching his face. It was his own ears, only they weren't human anymore.

 

They were deer ears.

 

Just like that, all anxiety drained from his system and converted into annoyance. “Oh come one!” were the first words in his own voice out of his mouth since waking up. “A deer? No!” he continued, starting to wave his arm only to cringe in pain over his broken one. A noise deep and throaty caught his attention as the dragon withdrew its hand. Glancing up through the tears still welling up in his eyes, he could see the creature shaking and rubbing its face. Brow furrowing, Dipper recognized what the noise was despite the difference of species. “You're laughing at me? Really?” The creature nodded and Dipper's eyes went wide again. “So you understand m—,” he was cut off by his own voice, a noise of distress leaving his mouth without his permission. He covered his mouth again and glared at the dragon, who was laughing a little harder this time. Dipper was about to complain when it occurred to him how easily the dragon could have just eaten him. The thought was enough to make him shiver, but also make him realize that if it hadn't eaten him yet it likely had no intention to. His anxiety told him he couldn't be too sure though.

 

Holding his arm and keeping his mouth closed, he looked the golden dragon over and quickly realized it had only one eye. It had black points, even the tips of his horns appearing scorched. Its ears were trained on him about as much as its one eye. Forelegs crossed, the dragon watched Dipper about as much as Dipper watched it. After a moment of watching each other carefully, the dragon lowered its head to Dipper's level and he actually didn't flinch when the dragon's muzzle touched his forehead. The dragon exhaled, ruffling Dipper's hair as it moved its nose over Dipper's face. Closing his eyes again, he kept still as the dragon looked him over. He stopped breathing altogether in favor of keeping completely still. The dragon slowly dropped its head down to his throat and Dipper hunched over and let out a sound of discomfort when its hot tongue flicked out to taste the bite on his neck one last time. He was half tempted to shrug off the saliva that collected on his neck, but decided not to just in case it offended the dragon. The last thing he wanted to do is offend something that could swallow him in one gulp.

 

The dragon nosed his broken arm gently, and what sounded like purring reached Dipper's ears. It was almost like he was being asked a question, but he wasn't quite sure what he was being asked. Taking a wild guess, he gingerly held out his broken arm. This seemed to be what the dragon wanted, as it stopped humming and proceeded with its inspection. After a few moments of sniffing and nudging softly, the dragon got up and turned away completely. As the dragon moved away, almost like it was looking for something, Dipper got a better look at the place he was in. It was dark, so it was hard to see everything. The cave was large and deep within a cliff side or underground most likely, as he couldn't really see much outside unless he got up and headed for the mouth. The light that poured in barely illuminated the corners of the place, which seemed vast enough in comparison to the creature it housed. There were ledges along the walls where piles of unidentifiable objects resided.

 

He struggled to his feet as his stomach started turning. Surprised he could still stand despite the soreness, he kept his arm cradled to his chest as he stepped deeper into the cave and followed the dragon. Squinting, his organs began to twist as he realized what the dragon was sifting through and what was on the ledges he'd glimpsed: piles and piles of bones. Actually, as Dipper's eyes began to focus more, he realized that it wasn't so much 'piles' as just one large pit of bones with something vaguely resembling organization, like one side was dedicated to housing limbs, another ribs, and one large section at the back held skulls.

 

Dipper had no idea how to respond, especially since he could clearly see human skulls among the many nonhuman ones. Of course he had no doubt closer inspection would reveal some might just seem humanoid, but he didn't think he was quite ready for an investigation of that caliber.

 

Something twitched at his rear and he jumped and squealed for a moment, sending his arm into a fit of agony. Glancing behind him (he could see his own ears angling in the direction of the movement, which was weird in and of itself) he sighed at the sight of the tail reminding him of the first form he'd taken. Trying not to cry anymore over the pain in his arm, he jerked back only a little when he felt the dragon shifting back towards him. The sound of bones being rattled and moved had barely registered in his head until then, when the dragon had slid through his hoard (that's what it was, his hoard) to get back to him.

 

The dragon lowered its head towards Dipper, offering him what looked like a bone from a leg. Dipper started to shake his head, but quickly ceased his movement when he saw the dragon's scales start to bristle around its head warningly. The dragon didn't growl, but the sight of scales standing on end told Dipper he should be careful what he chose to do next. Gulping and deciding not to offend the dragon, he took the bone with a shaking hand. Looking up questioningly, he tried not to wonder what creature the dragon had harvested the bone from. Before he could ask, the dragon nudged the bone towards his broken arm. Dipper's brow furrowed. “I don't get it.” The dragon repeated the action of pushing the bone against Dipper's broken arm again, and Dipper thought he understood. “I don't have anything to tie it with.” Then the dragon snorted at him, shaking its head at him momentarily. Then, before Dipper knew what he was doing, the dragon's jaws enclosed around the corner of Dipper's vest and, with the jerk of his head, had torn a strip of cloth from the vest and held it up for him. Looking from the ripped piece of cloth to the dragon's eye, Dipper felt a question burning its way out of his mouth. “Why are you helping me?” There was a pause before the dragon dropped the cloth at his feet. Dipper closed his eyes as the beast's tongue emerged once again and licked the side of his face. It took all of his strength to keep from cringing at the sensation. He guessed the answer was that the dragon liked him. “So . . . you're not gonna eat me?” The dragon tilted his head and the look it gave Dipper was almost human. It clearly stated that that was an idiotic question. After all, all the dragon had done was help him thus far. “Fair point,” Dipper said with a sigh. Situating the bone under one arm as best he could without causing additional agony, he bent over to pick up the cloth. Thinking of how he was going to do this with one hand, the dragon settled down in front of him to watch what he did.

 

It occurred to him that he should probably ask if the dragon intended to let him go. For the sake of politeness, he elected to save the question for after he struggled with materials for the makeshift splint the dragon had provided him.

* * *

 

He found the small thing fascinating. It had started off scared, but soon listened to reason once it realized it wasn't under threat for the time being. Lowering his head to the creature's level, he watched him work with curiosity.

 

He was surprised it had accepted a piece from his hoard. Surprised and intrigued. It was a nice change having a subject to observe after centuries of nothing remotely interesting in his territory.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Mabel mewled, curled up sadly on Soos's belly as they stared blankly at the television set. He ran a hand over her coat, trying to soothe her. He knew she was worried about her twin. He was too. He wished Stan had let him warn him of what he might run into in the woods of Gravity Falls. Maybe he would have thought twice about straying too far from the shack. As it was, Dipper was missing and Wendy and Stan were still looking for him.

 

The cat got up from her seat suddenly, dropping from his belly to the floor. Before he could ask where she was going, she flopped down onto the ground and shifted into a partial form the leaned more towards human than cat. She stretched once the shifting stopped, then continued her feline mewling. “You alright dude? Can I get you anything?”

 

“What could have taken him?” she asked.

 

He stiffened. “How do you know something took him?”

 

“Because Dipper doesn't get lost. He never gets lost. He always knows where he is and what he's doing. He makes plans to make plans.” She sighed. “He's neurotic like that.” She looked up at him sullenly. “What could have taken him?”

 

Soos took his turn to sigh. Mr. Pines probably didn't want him to answer that, but what was he supposed to do? Let her sulk and worry? She would do that anyways. For all he knew, he was going to be sticking with her in the shack for days. Stan was not the kind of man to come back home without his nephew. She deserved to know what might have happened to her twin, and what could happen to her great uncle.

 

Glancing out the door, he might have to call his abuelita soon. She would need to know he was staying there so she wouldn't worry. The few humans of the town might know of the shape shifters that resided there, and might be on fantastic terms with them. But there were other things living in Gravity Falls that would devour humans sooner than anything the shifters could turn into. Soos really hoped Dipper had found a form and wasn't being dragged back to some monster's den.

 

Censoring the information he was certain Mr. Pines wouldn't get upset with him about, he explained, “There are things in the woods.”

 

She squinted at his lack of description. “Things that could take him?”

 

He nodded, but didn't mention that there were things that would kill him. Nor did he mention what sort of things. Honestly, he wouldn't even know where to begin when it came to the myriad of monsters in Gravity Falls.

 

There were two things one should never talk about to outsiders: shape shifters and monsters. On some level, the town didn't even speak of monsters to its younger generation if for no other reason than to keep them from either being frightened or chasing after said monsters. There were consequences to having something paranormal as a first form. That was something else Soos feared for Dipper.

* * *

 

It was night by the time they found the end of the trail. Dipper's scent grew strong at a point on the river, then faded entirely. Wendy and Stan scoured the area, smelling insignificant traces of blood. They were insignificant in that they were very small amounts. However, Wendy felt herself starting to panic at remnants anyway.

 

Shifting back to their human forms, Stan immediately declared, “Go home.”

 

Wendy was taken aback by the command. “No. We have to find him—”

 

“I'm going alone from here.”

 

Her temper flared up and one of her ears turned lupine and pinned. “No. No you're not.”

 

Mr. Pines glared and pointed to the area they were standing in. “Do _you_ recognize any of the other scents here? Because if you did, you'd run with your tail between your legs kid.”

 

She had to admit, she hadn't really been able to identify the other trails. The only one that she could really sense was Dipper's, and she vaguely caught onto two others. Both were almost too faint to tell apart. “What are they?” Her human eyes strained in the growing darkness, but when she switched to her secondary gaze she could clearly see the old man shaking. The very thought of Stanford Pines shivering over something put her on edge. He was a hard, tough, salty old man. She'd never seen him quake before. “What is it? What's got him? Is he—?”

 

“I don't know,” he admitted, face sullen and shoulders sinking. “One of them I'm sure will have eaten him by now. The other,” he paused at the thought, a nervous hand running over his scalp, “we would have found a carcass if it were the smaller of the two.” Stan almost doubled over, grabbing handfuls of the small amounts of hair on his head with both hands. “I don't know which one's worse—”

 

“What are they, though?” she interrupted before he could start panicking. If she couldn't panic, neither could he.

 

Straightening up but still shaking, he sighed. “Naga.” He pointed in one direction. “She went that way.”

 

Wendy somehow knew that one was the smaller of the two and the least of his concerns. “And the other?”

 

He clearly didn't want to scare her. She knew he was looking for a gentler explanation than just simply telling her. With that in mind, she thought of the most impossible answer she could conjure and waited for him to speak. “Your dad taught you about shifting,” he began. “Did he pass along those cautionary tales our generation got from our parents?”

 

She squinted, unsure of which he meant. “Like what?”

 

“Stories telling you what not to do as a shifter, or whatever?” She nodded, heart suddenly stopping and stomach dropping. “Did he tell you the one about a dragon named Cipher?” She didn't have to nod. She didn't even have to answer with a facial expression. Everyone in town knew that story. But before she could even think that it was just a story, he declared, “Some of those tales are true, kid. That's one of them.”

 

That wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was that that had been the answer she'd conjured, the one she'd thought truly impossible. “He . . . he has Dipper?”

 

“I think so.”

 

She looked at the ground, staring at the smallest drop of blood she could discern from the grass. There was something about it suddenly. Something she could sense. “The naga's the one that would have left a carcass?”

 

The old man nodded. “Cipher's a collector. He'd want Dipper's,” the man started choking up before swallowing down the majority of his emotion, “he'd want his skeleton.”

 

“That's if he's dead, right?” She was astounded with her ability not to sound panicked. Her eyes must be wild, though, because Stan was reacting to her like she was in a corner and he didn't want to frighten her now. “What if he's alive? If Dipper's alive, maybe—”

 

“Cipher's never taken a human alive before—”

 

“Dipper's not human—”

 

“That doesn't matter! He looks human—”

 

“Smell the blood again!” she declared. Crouching down, she swiped her finger over the bead on the grass and held it up to her nose to make sure she was right. Holding the bloodied digit out for him, she stepped forward and ordered, “Do it. Trust me.”

 

Stan looked a combination of exasperated and frightened. It took him a moment of clenching his fists and evening out his breath to muster up the gumption to do as she said. As soon as he did, however, his eyes widened. “He changed.”

 

Wendy nodded. “What's Cipher's stance on shape shifters?”

 

Mr. Pines looked even more dumbstruck and in shock than he had been previously. Shrugging, he uttered, “No one alive has ever seen him up close. The tales say no one's really come out of an encounter with him alive—”

 

“There's still a chance, though,” she said. “Let's go get him.”

 

His spine straightened and an almost feral growl replaced the words, “I said I'm going alone!”

 

“And I said no!” she snarled out. They lowered their heads and bodies, canine ears appearing and pinning as they bared semi-sharper teeth at one another. “We don't have time to fight over this! Let's go!”

 

There was a moment where they continued glaring at each other before Stan rose again. Still snarling, he declared, “Remind me to fire you when we get back.”

 

“Sure.” He wasn't going to fire her. She knew that well enough.

 

Shifting back into a wolf and bloodhound, they pursued a trail that led them over the river and deeper into the woods.

* * *

 

Dipper sat still, somewhat frightened despite the dragon's interest in keeping him alive. For now. His paranoia was starting to eat at him. Did it really intend to keep him here? He still hadn't mustered up the courage to ask if that was its plan. He only knew anything about dragons from the books he'd read, but just how much could he rely on those sources? Once again, only a few days ago magic had been a myth. Now he was in a partial deer-human form and sitting in a dragon's den that apparently sat high up on a cliff overlooking the town. It was a great view, but clearly the only way he was going to get out was going to be if the dragon let him out.

 

Feeling his ears twitch at every single noise only served to make him more paranoid. Somehow, watching his ears move was entertaining to the dragon. Its head would lower to Dipper's level and its eye became thoroughly focused on the movements until Dipper's whole being stiffened completely and the twitching stopped in favor of watching the dragon back.

 

At some point the day's events caught up with him and despite his body aching, he grew tired. It didn't help that the sun was almost gone and he was about to be trapped in the dark with a much bigger beast than he'd intended to meet. As the night air encroached on him, he started to shiver. That only made the body aches and the weariness worse, and he was so sick of being on the verge of tears from the pain that he just snapped his eyes closed and kept them that way. Muffled noises of discomfort escaped his lips as he drew his limbs tighter to himself. He was about to curl up on the ground when he heard the dragon shift and its jaws were suddenly looming over his shoulder. He all but screamed when the dragon's teeth latched onto the back of his vest and shirt before lifting him off the ground. “Hey hey hey!” he cried, voice suddenly turning animal again as he protested. With the arm that wasn't in a sling made of bone and torn clothing he clung to himself to make sure he didn't slip out of the clothes the dragon had a hold of. The shirt rode up on his neck, threatening to choke him if the dragon didn't set him down soon. Once he was lowered back to the ground, he quickly realized he was now settled between the dragon's front legs in the pit of bones. Shifting uncomfortably on the myriad of clean picked and almost bleached pieces, he looked up to avoid really thinking about what it was he was trying to get situated on. Unfortunately looking up meant he was stuck staring at the dragon. “That kinda hurt,” he said. That was an understatement, as it had actually made his sore and shivering body feel ten times worse. “Can you find a better way to pick me up maybe?”

 

The dragon actually squinted at him and shrugged. It was still astounding Dipper that the dragon understood him and yet couldn't speak himself. Couldn't dragons talk? At least in some stories they could. The dragon's body shifted, curling and sinking into the bones it had collected. Its forelegs shifted, making Dipper squeak as they pushed bones on top of his legs before the dragon's head lowered and part of its neck rested on his lap. Dipper tried squirming at first, but soon realized that once again he wasn't going anywhere unless the dragon decided so. When he stopped struggling, as it was only hurting him more, he actually felt the dragon purring (or humming, he wasn't sure how to classify the noise really) approvingly. Getting used to the not so unpleasant weight on his legs, he leaned back against the dragon's foreleg and sighed.

 

He was genuinely surprised to discover how warm the dragon was. He'd always imagined scales as being hard and cold, but they were actually smooth and warm to the touch. With that much heat pressed against him, his shivering quelled almost immediately and all that was left were the body aches. Soon those started to fade against the heat too and sleepiness started to claim him again. Eyes sliding closed, he started to mumble in the silence, “Thanks for not eating me and stuff.” The dragon hummed in response to the tired shifter, whose ears and nose grew cold for a brief moment before the warmth reached them again. Eyes sliding closed, he started snickering as he relaxed for the first time since waking up. He really must be tired. “Your scales are commander yellow,” he muttered. The dragon's body lurched as it snorted at him, scales shifting as it hummed. It was probably trying to tell him to go to sleep. That seemed like a good plan. He was already mumbling incoherently to himself as he drifted off into a quiet slumber.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An hour or so late, but dammit it's here!

He didn't bother lifting his head at first as he yawned. Morning light crept into the den slowly as he shifted his weight slightly. It wasn't until he heard a muffled cry of pain that his head jerked up. Angling his head down to make sure he hadn't accidentally crushed the shifter, he sighed in relief as it twisted and rolled onto its side, still lying partially on his foreleg. Its features had reverted back to human while it slept, and the change made him tilt his head before he proceeded to examine the differences. Smaller ears, smaller nose, it looked more pathetic like this actually. Ruffling its hair a little as he investigated, he suddenly pulled back and snorted at the scent of the tiny thing's scalp. The odor was foul, making the scales around his neck and head stand and his nose wrinkle. That just wasn't acceptable.

 

Without waiting for it to wake up, he covered its lower half with his other paw to keep it still and started dragging his tongue through the brown locks. It came awake almost immediately, whining at the feel of his tongue cleansing its hair of that stench. “Stop,” it protested. He only growled in response, continuing to lick and pull at the thing's head of hair. It whimpered, trying to push his muzzle away with its uninjured hand. He chuckled a little at how much it squirmed, but didn't let up until the odor had dulled considerably. The tiny thing continued to try and push him away until it exhausted itself and hunched over on the leg it had previously been lying on. Lying still as he licked the hair clean, it murmured, “Shouldn't your spit be toxic? I mean, you're basically a giant lizard.” He stopped cleaning then, going completely still before a growl erupted from his lungs. His scales rattled and the tiny thing looked panicked at the reaction its statement had garnered. “No no, I can expla—,” it was cut off by its own distress calls. It covered its mouth quickly as he continued to snarl and glower over the insult. Him? A lizard? No.

 

He scoffed loudly before opening his jaws and using them to pick the now screaming and writhing thing up again. It wiggled in his grasp, trying to escape his fangs only to hurt itself more. Well, it had asked for a different method of picking it up. What reason did it have to complain? Moving the loud and horrified thing, he set it down on the highest ledge in the cave within reach and left it there so it couldn't get down without his help. Settling back down on his collection, he stretched out and dug himself a little deeper into the hoard of bones and such so he could lounge a little more comfortably now that he didn't have a smaller body to be aware of.

 

Speaking of the smaller body, the shifter sat up after being curled in a ball for a short amount of time and peered over the ledge at him. It was shivering, but no longer screaming at the top of its lungs. After a moment of silence, he closed his eye and refused to look at the tiny thing any longer. Then it asked, “Did I just get put in timeout?” He didn't answer it. It could figure things out itself. Hopefully it wasn't stupid enough to try to climb down on its own. It wouldn't be able to do that even if it had both arms functioning. He heard it scrambling around for a moment, perhaps looking again to see if there was an easy way down. Either way, he wasn't going to acknowledge it for the moment. He was going to nestle deeper into his hoard until it figured out how to rectify the statement it had made. “Look, I'm sorry I called you a lizard.” He let out a loud huff, scales rattling once more as he continued to refuse to acknowledge it. He heard it settle down, imagined it was thinking over what to say next. Then it said, “I mean, you are reptilian. I think.” He started growling and he could practically smell the fear on the little being. “Come on, what am I supposed to d—?” it let out another animal cry, and that succeeded in making him snort. The more anxious it got, the less human it was. He found that interesting. Side glancing the thing, he could see it covering its mouth and going red in the face from its own outburst. When its hand dropped, its nose had reverted to its deer-like appearance and its ears were slowly changing too. “I'm,” it bleated, “actually kinda,” it pulled its hand from its mouth, “afraid of heights.” He turned his head more towards it, but did not lift it off his hoard. Humming at the creature, he was considering forgiving it for the time being. The longer it sat up on the ledge, though, the less human it seemed. He almost smiled when it begged, “Can I please come down? I really am so—,” another distress call and it looked about ready to crumble in place.

 

Sighing, he decided to take pity on it just this once. Perhaps it would think better about insulting him if it knew the punishment. Shifting slightly, he raised his head and leaned against the ledge for the thing to climb on. It hesitated at first, then clumsily fell onto his head between his horns. He snorted at the creatures instability, laughing at how it shook and clung to one of his horns before he lowered it to the ground. When he had settled back down onto his bone pile, it slid off his head and landed loudly on his blind side. It whimpered softly, then clambered back towards his body and settled between two of his fingers. He was partly annoyed it had chosen to settle in on the side he couldn't see, but at the very least he could feel it trying to gather its breath and calm down. He heard a yawn, and felt a grumble within its body accompanied by another whimper. It occurred to him that it might be hungry, but at the moment it seemed more interested in relaxing and going back to sleep.

 

What to feed it and when actually might become a growing concern for him. In the meantime, he let it settle in at his side.

* * *

 

Dipper kicked slightly at the bones at his feet, trying hard not to attempt to identify what sort of creatures said bones used to belong to. He watched the hair on his arms return from the smoothed out and consistent light brown coat to the more sporadic human-like pattern. The more he forgot about his time on the ledge (or how he got there, really), the less deer-like he looked. By the time his heart stopped hammering in his chest, he was mostly human again save for the ears.

 

Using one of the dragon's black fingers to sit up a little more, he yawned again. He was still tired and sore, his arm still aching ridiculously, but he was now too attentive to his surroundings to even fathom getting more than a doze in. Looking around the cave, he was still greatly unnerved by the fact that they were lying on bones. Before he could stop himself, he asked, “Did you kill all of these?” He was somewhat relieved when the dragon snorted and shook its head. “Most of them?” The dragon shrugged, then gave a halfhearted nod. So it was entirely possible he just collected the majority of the bones. “Okay.” Dipper puffed out his cheeks, again struggling not to try and guess where each bleached bone had come from. Looking up at the dragon, he started to say something but an inhuman squeak came out instead. He was taken aback by how bone dry his mouth had become, how parched his throat suddenly felt. Trying to ignore it, he declared sleepily, “You need a name.” The paw he was resting on shifted forward, pushing him closer to the dragon's face. He let out an unabashed squeal before covering his mouth for the hundredth time, still vocalizing even through his hand as the dragon then reached back and scooped him up in his mouth again. “No no!” he cried, back and legs resting against teeth and tongue still but slimy beneath him. “Put me down, put me down!” He didn't want to end up on the ledge again. Was it really going to put him in timeout over suggesting the dragon be named?

 

When the dragon set him down, he did little more than roll out of its mouth and onto the smooth stone just outside of the pit of bones. He didn't land on his broken arm this time, but he had reverted back to his partial deer-human form. The distress noises he was making were a mixture as well, and he couldn't stop shaking until his eyes slid open and he saw the dragon's face inches from him. It watched him so attentively. He should really be afraid of something that watched him so closely, something that was almost twice the size of the Mystery Shack.

 

Instead he pushed himself to his feet and pointed accusingly at the dragon, “Every time you do that, I think you're gonna eat me!” The dragon actually snorted at his frustration and rolled its eye. “Can you at least tell me that's not gonna happen in the foreseeable future?” The dragon lifted its shoulders, then dropped them again. A shrug? On this subject? Really?! “What do you mean, you don't—?” His voice cracked and he was really, really tired of being interrupted by himself. Turning away, he flopped back down on the ground to hide the tears of frustration. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. This wasn't at all what he'd planned to happen. Yet here he was: tired, sore, thirsty, and starting to feel a little hungry all while trapped in a dragon's cave. And he was part deer now. Fantastic.

 

He drew his knees up to his chest and tried not to think of the advice Grunkle Stan and Soos had given, the advice he'd blatantly ignored. He tried not to think about Mabel, and her repeated chanting of dominance over him. He also tried and failed at not thinking about being chased through the woods by a monster only to end up in one's house. He was still so afraid. No matter how decent and somewhat kind it had been up until now, he was still terrified of it. It was hard remembering he was technically living at its mercy now.

 

Which meant he probably shouldn't turn his back on it. Dipper didn't jump when he felt the initial nudge at the small of his back trying to get his attention. He quickly started wiping away the water gathering in his eyes when the nudge turned into a gentle rub of the muzzle up and down his back. When he didn't turn around, which was apparently what the dragon wanted, the contact stopped for a few seconds before Dipper heard the beast lurching forward. He didn't turn around in time to see the dragon's movements. He didn't particularly care until it had apparently decided to push him onto the ground before laying its whole head on along the length of his body. Dipper cried out at first, shifting enough under the weight so his broken arm wasn't too affected by the pressure. Then he proceeded to groan. “Why?” he asked petulantly only for the dragon to reply by humming. He felt the vibration throughout his entire body, the dragon's warmth seeping into his skin again. Sighing, he didn't protest the contact this time even though he wasn't entirely sure what the dragon was doing. Was this a weird form of hug or reassurance? It felt like it, because Dipper was almost instantly comforted by the weight of the dragon's head on him. The warmth of its scales even improved some of the aches in his body as they'd done the night before. The tightness in his throat dissipated enough for him to utter, “It's a shame, really. If I'd just waited a little longer to shift, I might have been a dragon too.” Dipper jolted a little as the dragon rocked its head from side to side on him, indicating a 'no.' “Really? Why?” The dragon huffed, and Dipper realized it couldn't really answer that. Letting out his own huff, he started coughing on his dry throat. Nuzzling the cold stone beneath his cheek, he started to feel how feverish his face was just before the dragon lifted its head. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see it open its mouth in preparation for picking him up again. Dipper rolled onto his side and flung his arm out saying, “Wait a minute! Please!” The dragon closed its mouth and looked at him quizzically. Coughing again, Dipper pushed himself upright before holding up his hand, “Give me a second, and I'll,” he couldn't believe he was saying this, “I'll get in your mouth myself.” He couldn't believe he was offering to crawl into a dragon's mouth. He simply couldn't. Nor could he believe that the dragon was actually laughing at him over this. “It's not funny. Stop.” Then the dragon's head dropped to the floor and he left his mouth hanging open just enough for Dipper to crawl in. He whimpered slightly, careful to avoid the fangs that had dug into his back and legs a few times. Struggling not to dig his knee or foot into the dragon's tongue, he situated himself as best he could before he was being lifted off the ground. This is beyond weird, he thought to himself. He clamped his mouth shut, afraid to inhale the scent of the dragon's mouth or imagine what would happen if it decided now would be a great time to swallow.

 

He almost got sick at the thought, which prompted him to open his eyes and focus on something else. Anything else seemed appealing really. Peering through the dragon's teeth, he watched as the dragon took them across his bone pit towards the far end of his cave. At the very back, Dipper could just see and spot where the dragon's collection ended and the cave dipped downward. It was at the edge of this dip where the dragon set him down. Extracting himself from its mouth as carefully as he'd gotten in, he whispered a 'thank you' before moving to inspect this part of the cave. At the bottom of the dip, just at the meeting of the wall and the ground it seemed, was a dark spot which Dipper quickly identified as water. Something akin to a relieved sigh and a pleased yelp that also was not human left his mouth and he probably would have dove into the water if this part of the cave weren't cold enough already. Rushing to the pool, he started greedily gulping up the almost icy water. He didn't come up for air at first, simply dunking his face in the water and pulling in as much as possible. It wasn't until the dragon pushed his side a little that Dipper came up gasping. It grunted at him twice, as if chastising him into slowing down. He actually listened, taking smaller gulps until he was certain he'd had enough. Sitting back on his heels, he wiped his mouth and stared down at the pool. Squinting, he couldn't see how deep it went. This part of the cave was too dark for him to. Leaning forward, he tried putting his arm in the pool to feel for the elusive bottom only to come up short. Shoving himself back up, he asked, “How deep is this thing?”

 

The dragon then lowered its head to the water, submerging its head completely. It continued diving down, Dipper moving back slightly as some of the water sloshed up onto the stone at his knees. The water came up halfway the dragon's neck before it pulled back out and shook itself of the excess water. Its scales rattled and water splashed onto Dipper. He caught himself chuckling a little, wiping at the cold droplets on his coat and arms as he glanced up at the dragon. Its ears flicked back and forth, nostrils flaring as it got rid of the remainder of the water on its face before looking at Dipper. Dipper quickly tried to hide his smile and laughter, unsure how the dragon would react to it. Then the dragon smiled in its own weird (almost scary) way and proceeded to lean down and nuzzle Dipper's forehead. Dipper dropped his hand again before reaching up to pet the dragon's nose.

 

The strangeness of the situation wasn't lost on him. However, he found himself growing more and more comfortable with the dragon. Much of him still lingered on the fact that he did need to get home eventually, but for now he chuckled at the dragon that was actually allowing him to pet it.

 

The dragon paused in its movements, then blew air across Dipper's forehead before licking a particular spot and humming. “Oh,” he reached up to hold back his bangs. “Birthmark. It's actually what gave me my name.” The dragon tilted its head and Dipper actually felt bad realizing he hadn't really introduced himself. “I'm Dipper. Dipper Pines.”

 

It drew back slightly, and it looked almost confused. Then it opened its mouth and proceeded to moan and growl, like it was trying to say the word 'Pines' only it came out more drawn out and lacking many of the consonants. Dipper definitely had to clap a hand over his mouth at the dragon's attempt to say his last name. He wasn't as successful as he liked to think, as the dragon's mouth shut and its eye narrowed on him.

 

It wasn't until the scales on its neck started rising that Dipper tried to seriously stop laughing. Clearing his throat, he apologized. Then he asked, “Do you actually have a name?” He successfully suppressed a chuckle, almost afraid the dragon would attempt to speak again. Instead it just lowered its head and licked his forehead again. “So you're not gonna put me in timeout for coming up with a name for you?” The dragon laughed and shook its head. Dipper rubbed his chin, recalling something he's said the night before. “Your scales are commander yellow, huh?” He laughed at his own tired logic of the previous night. Then his mind went on a tangent. “First captain of the original series was Kirk, played by Shatner.” He snapped his fingers. “William. What do you think of William?” The dragon snorted, then shrugged. It was Dipper's turn to narrow his eyes. “Keep shrugging at me and I'm gonna call you Bill instead.” The dragon's tongue darted out to lick Dipper's nose, making it wrinkle before Dipper patted his muzzle again. “Bill it is, I guess.”

 


	5. Chapter 5

Dipper's stomach was starting to growl when Bill—he got used to calling the dragon Bill rather quickly—started to leave the cave. “Where are you going?” he asked. Bill opened its—his, he corrected himself—mouth and let out a noise not quite aggressive enough to be described as a hiss. Dipper squinted and tilted his head, and he struggled not to blink several times when his ears twitched and perked up attentively. “I have no idea what that means.”

 

The dragon turned around, lowering his head to Dipper's level. He tapped Dipper's stomach with his nose, then made a sound that resembled the noise Dipper's gut made when he was hungry. As if on cue, Dipper's stomach grumbled again and he rubbed it with his unharmed hand self-consciously. Bill chuckled at him before lowering his head and offering for Dipper to climb into his mouth rather than be picked up against his will again. Dipper didn't hesitate, making himself as comfortable as he could as quickly as he could. When he was settled, Bill closed his jaws just enough to trap him and proceeded to move towards the den's entrance.

 

Dipper had glimpsed out the mouth a few times, quickly drawing back due to height. Now he had to face the full view, and to say that he wasn't prepared would have been an understatement.

 

To say that he screamed like his sister when Bill dove off the side of the cliff would not be so inaccurate.

 

Dipper closed his eyes, wrapping a hand around one of Bill's teeth for additional security as the dragon opened its wings and adjusted his flight path. Once his stomach stopped shooting up into his throat and Dipper could breathe again, he focused on not panicking and readjusting his seat on Bill's tongue. When the dragon chuckled again, the sound was nearly deafening and it caused Bill's entire mouth to vibrate around him. “Stop laughing at me!” Dipper cried before opening his eyes to glare through the dragon's teeth. As soon as his eyes were open, they went wide.

 

He'd thought the view from the entrance was great, but this . . . watching the forest pass beneath them as Bill flew low over the treetops was amazing. For a minute, Dipper could forget his fear of heights and appreciate how beautiful Gravity Falls looked from above. On the ground, it was just lazy tourist trap of a town, but from up here . . . .

 

The only thing that killed the scenery was having to watch it from the cage of a dragon's teeth.

 

Bill angled towards the lake, forcing Dipper onto his side as a tip of his wing grazed the water. When Bill finally landed on the shore and let Dipper roll from his mouth, the young shifter's legs were too wobbly for him to stand on just yet. He landed on a patch of grass, lying on his side and cradling his broken arm before attempting to sit up. Scratching behind one of his ears, he asked, “So just . . . how do you intend to feed me?”

 

The dragon settled on its side, curling around him and blocking any and all paths to the forest. He must think I'm going to run, Dipper thought. While Dipper had thought about how to get back home, he wasn't dumb enough to try that. The dragon had been nice so far. He didn't want to risk angering him, especially since punishments could range from being put on a ledge he couldn't get down from to getting eaten. Of course, the mere thought of his home at the Mystery Shack was enough to make him sick with worry all over again.

 

His attention was torn from the thought once more when Bill lowered his head to the ground and he huffed, making the grass under his nostrils bend from the blow. Dipper's head tilted to the side as Bill looked back up at him expectantly. Did . . . did he expect him to eat grass? Dipper was about to scoff and make a noise of disgust when he realized the idea wasn't as farfetched. Not with his ears slapping him in the eye each time a fly got caught in the hairs of his ears. Scratching at the inside of his right ear, he glared down at the grass Bill would periodically look at before looking at him. Dipper sighed. What could it hurt? Everyone tried eating grass at least once in their life, right? Maybe that was just a miniature Mabel telling him that in his head. Oh God, if she were here now she'd be guffawing at him.

 

Leaning forward on his good hand, he eyed the grass again warily before sticking his tongue out to lick it first. It bore no noticeable flavor, and Bill got to laugh at his overly cautious approach. Narrowing his eyes on the dragon, he gave a mock, “Ha ha ha,” before just giving in and biting down on the grass beneath his mouth. When he pulled in a good first chunk, he chewed slowly. The strange flavor exploded in his mouth at first, and a feeling tickled at the back of his throat telling him to spit it out. He kept chewing, though, squinting and thinking as he did so. He felt some grit get stuck between his teeth and wow, that was a weird feeling. It was like accidentally getting sand in his mouth at the beach, only this time he had to fight the urge to sputter. Once chewed thoroughly, he swallowed the wad of grass and let out a long exhale as he considered what he'd just eaten. Scrambling over to the water's edge, he decided to take a drink before trying that again. He found that it actually helped, and that the second mouthful of grass tasted better than the first.

 

The dragon lowered his head onto his forelegs, resting and watching the perimeter of the lake as Dipper continued to graze (yep, this was grazing and he couldn't deny it) by his side.

* * *

 

“Are you sure this is going to work?”

 

“If it doesn't, then we can't say we didn't try.”

 

“We won't be able to say anything,” she griped as she hoisted the part of the beast she was carrying up further on her shoulder. Killing and capturing it hadn't been easy, but it was worth it strictly because it was a way to get the dragon's attention without inviting him to eat them instead. “Because we'll be dead.”

 

“Point remains,” Stan replied, doing the same with his side of the monster. “More bones for his collection.”

 

Wendy wasn't about to lie to herself: she was terrified now that they were drawing nearer to Cipher. Dragging the manticore behind them, she'd lost interest in poking fun at Stan's still fairly impressive upper body strength when her nerves had started to kick into gear. Pulling the monster closer to the lake, she asked, “You're sure he's here and not in his cave?”

 

“Can't you smell him?” She smelled something alright, but she wasn't as familiar with the scent as she should be. They'd been tracking him all day yesterday and all night, but Cipher's scent wasn't the one she picked up on. Blinking several times, she sucked in another lungful of air, mouth hanging open as she tasted the smell she actually was picking up on. When she recognized it she almost dropped the offering they'd acquired and started running. Instead, she began dragging the beast faster. “Wendy, what—?”

 

“Dipper's with him!” she cried excitedly. “Can't _you_ smell _him_?!” 

 

“Calm down, kid,” Stan warned, and she knew he didn't want to get his hopes up. She knew he didn't want to get there thinking his nephew was okay just to find much graver news, but she knew. Somehow she knew Dipper was there and alive and they were so much closer to getting him back than they'd been in the past twenty-four hours. Preparing to enter the clearing and glimpsing through the trees at the lake, the first thing they saw was the dragon's side. Wings tucked, body curled away from them, head out of sight, he was vulnerable. If they had wanted to attack, they very well could have. This vantage point was a poacher's dream. As they neared, though, their advantage was lost when the dragon's head lifted and he turned to growl at the woods where they would appear. Wendy's knees almost buckled at how large Cipher was, and it was Stan pushing forward that made her keep going anyway.

 

She watched as they approached much slower now, the dragon's head lowering and the wing closer to the lakeside extending like he was covering something. Hope flared in Wendy's chest, but was quickly squelched by fear as the dragon let out a warning snarl and stood up to turn more towards them. Her knees did give then and she let out a lupine whimper before pressing on after Stan. “Mr. Pines—”

 

“Try to remain calm. He likes the smell of fear.”

 

Right. From the story. She had to remember the story. He liked fear and bones and morbid things, things that made people afraid to go near him. But they could do this. They  _had_ to do this, otherwise there was no chance of getting Dipper back. Closing her eyes as they pressed forward and entered the clearing, when she opened them she was still so dumbfounded by his size that she almost missed the boy pressed close to the dragon's side, tucked safely under his wing.

 

She wasn't the only one who dropped the monster they were dragging behind them and started running blindly forward. “Dipper!” she and Stan cried in unison, relief flooding her as she took in the boy's appearance as she went.

 

“Grunkle Stan! Wen—!” They all stopped moving and were cut off by the dragon roaring. Head low and cutting off their view to Dipper as the wing drew tighter, Cipher's single eye narrowed in and out of focus on them as he continued snarling even after the earsplitting outburst. Wendy froze, shaking so much she felt her ears elongate and stick up on full alert as she too lowered herself to the ground in a show of submission. She didn't take her eyes off the dragon, wanting to show him what she was and that she meant know harm. Without glancing toward him, she could sense Stan doing the same. She could also just barely hear Dipper shouting something over the dragon's growling. Was he screaming . . . Bill? He was. “Bill!” Dipper cried, squeezing his way from between the wing and the dragon's side. “Bill, it's okay! They're my family!” Wendy watched as Cipher turned his attention from them to Dipper, the growling lowering to more of a purr. She couldn't believe what she was seeing as Dipper slid from between the dragon's wing and body to pat the dragon's muzzle. Using her heightened sense of hearing, she could hear the boy whispering, “It's okay. I'll come right back,” before the dragon . . . nodded. It was actually responding to Dipper. She glanced to Mr. Pines, but the man's eyes were so locked on what was happening that she couldn't tell whether he was just relieved to see his nephew alive and well or just as shocked as she was over the fact that Dipper was conversing with a dragon.

 

All focus on Cipher dwindled as Dipper came running to them. The look of relief and joy on Stan Pines's face was so out of character that Wendy couldn't help but smile and follow the old man as he stepped forward to meet his nephew.

* * *

 

Dipper ignored the sharp pain that shot through his arm and shoulder when Grunkle Stan pulled him in for a crushing hug, eyes brimming with tears both from the pain and from seeing his great uncle again. He could hear in the old man's voice that he had been just as worried for him as he had been for them. “I thought you were gone. I told you not to lose sight of the shack, I thought you were gone,” similar phrases started running together in Dipper's ears as Wendy also joined in on the hug. He whispered small responses that he knew, he should have known better. When they finally pulled away, Grunkle Stan quickly wiped at his eyes to conceal any sort of emotion and immediately started looking him over. A smile spread across his face as he held Dipper's face to examine his inhuman attributes. “Look at you. You got your first form.”

 

Dipper shrugged a little, smiling back, “Well, not quite.”

 

“And it's a cool one, too. An elk's good,” Wendy encouraged.

 

Dipper's head tilted and his ears twitched. “I thought it was a deer.”

 

“Elk. Deer. They have antlers. Lemme see this,” Grunkle Stan reached for Dipper's arm, gingerly touching it to see where the worst of the damage resided. “Did he do this to you?”

 

The anger in the question made him jump back and he became incredibly aware of the increased volume of growling going on behind him. “No, it was a half snake woman.”

 

“That naga,” Wendy determined for him.

 

He nodded, though he'd never heard the word before. “Yeah, Bill saved me.”

 

The looks the two of them gave him would have been comical at any other time, significantly when they simultaneously asked, “Bill?”

 

“Yeah, he chased her off and he's been taking care of me.” He gestured to his arm and added, “He even helped me with this.”

 

Grunkle Stan immediately started looking his arm over again, as if looking for something in particular. “Kid, tell me you didn't—,” he cut himself off as he seemed to find what he was looking for: the bone. Grunkle Stan's face fell as he clapped both hands over his eyes and groaned out, “Dipper no . . . .”

 

“What?” Dipper looked up at Wendy, who looked just as crestfallen. “What did I do?” What had he done wrong?

 

It was Wendy who answered, “You accepted a piece of his hoard.”

 

“What? What does that—?”

 

“Give it back!” his great uncle commanded harshly, pointing to the dragon.

 

It was Dipper's turn to be mortified. “No. I can't—”

 

“Give. It. Back!”

 

“I don't want to offend him!” Was it just him, or was the growling growing louder again?

 

“Give it here.” Grunkle Stan's hand slid inside the makeshift sling and he proceeded to yank the bone from Dipper despite his protests. It definitely wasn't his imagination then: Bill was snarling loud enough now that it was hard to hear Stan as he turned towards the dragon and held up the bone. “You take this back right now!”

 

“Grunkle Stan, don't—!” He went to run after his great uncle and stop him, but Wendy flung her arms around his middle and held him back. He let out a distress call without thinking and he watched as the scales around Bill's neck stood completely upright and he started stepping closer.

 

“You can't have him. Do you hear me?! He is not yours!” Grunkle Stan's demands were met with another roar. Dipper started pulling harder against Wendy when he saw his great uncle drop the bone and start rolling up his sleeves. What was happening? “I will fight you! I will fight you, Cipher!”

 

“Mr. Pines, stop!” Wendy let Dipper go to go pull her boss back. Dipper ran forward too, hastily picking up the bone and sticking it back in place as Wendy grabbed one of Stan's arms and cried, “What are you gonna do? Punch him in the eye?”

 

“Can someone please tell me what's going—?” Dipper's sentence turned into a scream as Bill managed to move quickly enough to pick him up by his shirt and lift him off the ground. Grunkle Stan and Wendy both shouted various protests as Bill stomped over to the nearest tree and dropped Dipper on a high branch. Twigs and needles scraped at his skin as he screamed and called, but ultimately he wound up straddling a branch and hugging the trunk with one arm before Bill let him go, turned away, and placed himself between Dipper and his family. When he managed to find his voice again, he begged, “Bill please! Don't hurt them!” Terror ripped through him as his pleas were drowned out by Bill's snarling, the dragon slowly approaching his great uncle and friend. “Bill!” That cry came out as more of a whimper than a cry for mercy. He started shaking as he saw his family backing away with just as much fear on their faces as he felt. Tears fell freely down his cheeks as he lost all control of his vocal cords and fearful, animal noises almost blocked out what he could still hear.

 

* * *

 

“Give him back—!”

 

“Dude, wait!” Wendy shouted, pulling Stan back before he could run at the slowly approaching dragon again. He turned and let out a canine snarl at her and she responded with one of her own. Ears flat and body bristling, she stood her ground and was surprised that he actually backed away in submission. He was scared. She was too. She was shaking all over, but she thought she had an idea. Taking a stand between her boss and the dragon, who'd come to a halt but was still growling, she started by reassuming a position lower to the ground showing her desire not to fight. Holding her hands up, she gulped and began with, “Clearly you can understand what we're saying, so hear me out.” There was a long pause where the dragon didn't look interested in listening at all. He stayed on alert and she stayed still. Then the volume dropped and his head lowered to her level. In the quieter setting they could both hear Dipper's crying and she was partially disturbed as well as relieved to see the dragon's ears twitching about as much as hers in response to the boy's sounds. Dipper meant something to the dragon. He had to. Why else would the dragon claim him? Swallowing hard again, she said, “We are really, really grateful to you.” The dragon's eye narrowed on her and the shiver that went down her spine told her she had better keep talking. “We all know what you could have done. Instead, you helped Dipper and you're protecting him. Thank you. Thank you for that.” She wondered if he understood what she was saying that well, and was still surprised when he stopped vocalizing and lifted his head a little. His expression lost a lot of its harshness when she continued with, “It's obvious who would win if we were to fight, okay?” If she didn't know any better, she'd say he looked smug at that comment. “But that would hurt Dipper, and Dipper is already hurt as is.” Daring to straighten up a little, she watched Cipher—or Bill—carefully as she said, “Which is why he should come with us, and see a—,” the snarling started again and she stopped immediately, words lodging in her throat as the dragon grew aggressive once more and Dipper, still stuck in the tree, let out another loud distress call.

 

“Back up, kid, back up,” Mr. Pines said from behind her. When he touched her forearm, she obeyed and let him take over. Judging by his tone, he had caught on to what she had been trying to do. Stan assumed a similar position as she had before addressing the dragon. “Cipher,” the dragon bristled at the name before Stan continued with, “I made a promise to protect him and his sister. From what is sounds like, you're interested in protecting Dipper too.” She had never once seen Stanford Pines beg for anything, but here he was with his hands clasped together and using words Mabel had probably had to teach him. “Please,” his tone was quiet enough that the dragon actually quieted to hear him, “let us take care of his arm, take care of him. We can work something out.” And by some miracle, the dragon was listening to them. Tilting its head, he started humming as if encouraging them to explain what they wanted to do. Mr. Pines picked and chose his words carefully as he continued. “You think,” he stopped, both he and Wendy knowing those words weren't careful enough. “Dipper is . . . he is yours now, right?” Her eyes widened as the dragon nodded at Stan, humming in what sounded like approval. Stan looked like he was going to be sick from the answer he'd received. “Okay,” he began, “regretfully acknowledging that.” Mr. Pines stood up straighter. “We want to help take care of him.”

 

Wendy saw the inquisitive, almost angry look the dragon gave them and decided to step back in with, “Not that you can't do well on your own. I mean,” she fumbled for words as Bill's attention was once again on her, “you've taken care of him until now.”

 

“But he's still mostly human,” Stan explained. “He needs to see a doctor for what the naga did to him—”

 

“Or else his arm could heal incorrectly.” Once she had begun, she started to embellish some details. “For all we know, he has some internal damage that could do him more harm. We know people who can make sure that doesn't happen.”

 

“And once he's taken care of, we can bring him right back to you.” Wendy turned to look at Mr. Pines, astonished at the offer. Moments ago he was going to fight Bill for his nephew. Now . . . he was offering him up. From the look of it, though, it was killing him to do it. Looking at the dragon, Bill was more than a little intrigued now. “We keep him for . . . a week, maybe. Ensure he's healthy. Then we'll bring him back to your territory.” Stan sighed, rubbing his hands together nervously and she knew what he wanted to ask but was worried to.

 

So she asked for him in a way Bill might understand. “Every now and then, maybe you'd let him visit us so we can teach him about his new form? How to take care of it properly?” When the dragon didn't reject the idea, she continued with, “We can work out a tradeoff. You get him for however many days, your choice. Then he'll come home with us. We'll keep sending him back and forth.”

 

The dragon looked away and both Wendy and Stan stopped talking, watching as he considered carefully what they were saying. Bill's thoughts were interrupted when Dipper almost inaudibly asked, “Bill?” The dragon finally turned to look at the boy he'd placed in a nearby tree, moving towards him and nudging him with his muzzle. Using her lupine hearing again, she picked up on Dipper asking, “Please? I'll make sure they keep their promise and bring me back.”

 

Much to their shock, the dragon hummed at the boy and opened his mouth. They watched as Dipper crawled into Bill's jaws and the dragon set him down on the ground. They made no moves towards him, watching as Dipper slipped back out of the dragon's mouth and turned to face him. The dragon held one claw up and Dipper looked absolutely elated, like he understood what he meant. Running forward past the dragon's claw, Dipper threw his good arm around the dragon's chest, attempting to hug Bill. Muttering a series of muffled thanks, the dragon . . . smiled. It smiled and purred at him as its scales lay flat on his neck and he watched Dipper carefully. When Dipper came running back to them, arm outstretched and beaming, the dragon eyed them carefully as they hugged the boy and Wendy asked, “What did he say?”

 

“One week. I get one week,” Dipper explained, tears still spilling from his eyes but much more joyful than before.

 

It was then that Bill noticed the manticore Wendy and Stan had brought. Without thinking much of it, Stan said, “That's for you. Keep it. Call it a truce.” Originally, the manticore was going to be their way of bartering for either Dipper or Dipper's body. They hadn't anticipated this scenario in the slightest.

* * *

 

Grunkle Stan didn't set him down the whole way home. For someone who complained of a sore back, he was reluctant to give it a rest every once in a while. This was especially true since Bill insisted on following them the whole way home. That wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't also insisted in carrying the manticore as well. Grunkle Stan and Wendy were more than a little put off by the dragon carrying the much smaller beast in its jaws. Dipper was more accepting of it than he thought he would be.

 

Dipper was almost asleep, dangling partially over Grunkle Stan's shoulder when he realized Bill had stopped following them. “Why'd he stop?” He honestly thought Bill would follow them all the way to the shack.

 

Stopping briefly and turning to look at the dragon, Grunkle Stan said, “That's the edge of his territory.”

 

“He can't go any further than that, man.”

 

They continued walking, Dipper's eyes locked on the dragon watching him as Grunkle Stan muttered, “If we don't honor our end of the deal, he might not honor his.” While the statement confused Dipper, he guess he was going to get some sort of explanation back at home. For now he waved to Bill, and as he drifted off to sleep he swore the dragon was smiling even with the manticore in his grasp.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“You are the luckiest little dude alive.”

 

“And the dumbest. I mean, who looks at a dragon and thinks to name him Bill?” Grunkle Stan glared at Dipper. “Spit that out. Do you wanna end up like him?”

 

Dipper did as Grunkle Stan said and spat out the grass he'd been chewing on. Wiping his mouth with his forearm, it hadn't taken long for Grunkle Stan to really get upset over what had happened between them and the dragon once they'd gotten home. A few hours later they were still waiting for the doctor Soos had called to come visit them, and Dipper was no closer to understanding why Grunkle Stan was mad at him.

 

Himself. Wendy had insisted that Grunkle Stan was actually mad at himself before she'd gone home to get some much needed rest. It was going to be a while before his great uncle came to terms with the fact that he felt like he'd sold his nephew to a legendary monster. Apparently if Dipper had heard some of the stories that got passed around the shape shifters in town frequently, he wouldn't be in this predicament. So far, though, he and Mabel were the only ones who weren't seeing this as a predicament.

 

Meanwhile, he had never been happier to have his twin picking on him. He was practically beaming as she batted at his ears. “Why does Dipper get a pet and I don't?” she jokingly asked.

 

Grunkle Stan pinched the bridge of his nose as he took a seat in the chair on the porch beside Soos. “Mabel sweetie, Dipper _is_ the pet.”

 

“When a dragon gives you a piece of his hoard and you accept, you belong to that dragon, Hambone,” Soos explained.

 

“But . . . he gave it to me to help with my arm.” Dipper was confused, but it didn't feel fair for anyone to be upset with him. How was he supposed to know anything about real dragons? He'd only just found out they were real to begin with. “And what do you mean 'end up like him,' Grunkle Stan?”

 

Their great uncle leaned back in the seat and closed his eyes. “Soos, you know this stuff too. You tell him.”

 

“Alright dude,” Soos began as Grunkle Stan rested his eyes, “look at it like this: you were hurt bad and Cipher saw an opportunity to get you to accept his help. And also make you his slave.”

 

“Slave?” Dipper scoffed the word. “First it's pet, now its slave? What exactly are you guys saying?”

 

Grunkle Stan huffed and sat back up. “Kid, you owe him your life from what you've told us. He just decided that as payment, he owned you.”

 

“That's not the impression I got at all,” Dipper protested.

 

“What, you think you know dragons better than we do now?” That silenced Dipper. Shaking his head and grumbling something inaudible, his great uncle then declared, “Why couldn't you have just stayed close to the shack like I asked you?”

 

“I didn't know I'd gone too far until . . . until I had.” Dipper swiped at his eyes for fear more tears would spill down his cheeks. He accidentally unleashed a deer-like noise of upset, covering his mouth as soon as he realized what was happening. Mabel mewled beside him, wrapping her arms around her twin's neck comfortingly.

 

Grunkle Stan sighed. “That's something you're gonna need to learn to control first. Cipher's already way too sensitive to the sound of your distress.”

 

“Isn't that a good thing, though?” Mabel asked.

 

“Not if the dragon's gonna eat _me_.” Stan's eyes narrowed. “Speaking of eating, how much grass did you eat when you were with him?”

 

Dipper's gaze shifted to the ground. As soon as he'd arrived home, aside from being assaulted by hugs and questions he'd also been fed gracious plenty. Still, grass remained tempting for some reason. “Not . . . _that_ much. I'd just started grazing when you guys—,” he stopped when he saw his sister covering her mouth to hide her laughter over the fact that her brother was grazing. Gritting his teeth and growing defensive, he uttered, “It's not funny. I was hungry.”

 

“Aye aye aye, you can't do that,” Grunkle Stan said, throwing his hands up in the air. “That could be part of why you haven't changed back to normal since we've seen you.” Before Dipper could ask, his great uncle leaned back and closed his eyes again. “Soos, go ahead and tell him. This is still your department.”

 

Soos beamed with excitement. “You can't eat the food of your form, dude. You have to continue maintaining a human diet, or else you turn into that animal.”

 

Dipper's eyes widened. “That . . . that happens?!”

 

“Guess I should stop drinking bowls of milk, then,” Mabel murmured.

 

“Milk's still good. Soft kitten food? Not so good.” Soos held up his hand and declared, “There are five cardinal rules to being a shape shifter.” He got ready to mark off each rule with his fingers. “One, don't eat the food of your form. Two, you can't take on the form unless in the presence of the actual animal. Three, don't change into anything too big because it's harder to change back. Four, never intentionally harm another shape shifter and respect your kin. Five, humans can't know what you are.”

 

Dipper and Mabel both squinted. “The entirety of Gravity Falls breaks at least one of the rules.”

 

“Yeah,” Mabel added. “Isn't it a little ironic a human has to explain this to us?”

 

Soos shrugged. “Gravity Falls has its own rules. As do other places and other shape shifters. Those are the five main ones that most everyone follows, though.”

 

Dipper thought about what all had been said when something clicked. Looking up, he said, “Grunkle Stan, you said I'd become like Bill if I ate grass. Does that mean—?”

 

“—he's not actually a dragon?” Mabel finished for him.

 

Grunkle Stan didn't look up. He simply pointed to Soos and let the younger man take over. “There are some stories the town passes around to teach little shifters lessons, dudes. Fables about what happens when a shifter does this and that, myths of how all the monsters got here in the first place, explanations for cohabitation and what happens when it doesn't work. Cipher is one of those stories. He's kind of the first four rules wrapped into one.”

 

“The only rules that matter to absolutely every shape shifter despite origin,” Stan added.

 

Dipper's eyes widened as it dawned on him. “Bill is . . . he's a shape shifter?”

 

“Not anymore,” Soos clarified. “Been stuck in that form for too long. It'd be pretty much impossible for him to have any human left in him.”

 

The thought actually saddened Dipper. He couldn't imagine what it must have felt like, to lose one's concept of humanity. It made him question his feelings towards his secondary form more than he had previously been doing. “So,” Mabel interjected, “he turned into a dragon and got stuck?”

 

“Centuries ago there was this notion that one should balance out their diet. Eat a little human food, then eat a little form food, mix it up yo.” Soos took on a more serious tone, “But once Cipher took his first form, it was a downhill slide. He couldn't change back, human food started to disgust him, he started thinking that he owned the whole place. He wreaked havoc on old Gravity Falls. It's a miracle anyone could reason with him enough to get him to stay in his territory.”

 

“As long as they agreed to stay in theirs,” Stan threw in. “Allegedly he only conceded to that out of an old respect for the rule to never hurt another shifter. Which seems crazy, as he'd hurt plenty on his initial rampages. There are plenty of old stories of what happens to idiots who go out and try looking for the dragon. Those who come back found nothing. Those who don't,” he paused, “well, no one who's seen Cipher ever made it back alive, let's just say.”

 

“Until you, dude.”

 

Dipper was no longer sure how to feel about that, other than suddenly he realized why he couldn't have taken a dragon form if he had wanted to. His concerns continued to grow when Stan then proceeded to say, “Everything I had ever learned about him did absolutely nothing for me here. I went in expecting a monster to have eaten my nephew, and suddenly I'm having a legitimate conversation with an overgrown lizard.”

 

“Don't call him a lizard,” Dipper automatically corrected. “He doesn't like it.”

 

Stan gave him an odd look before declaring, “Well if he's here right now and he's offended, come at me!” Mabel and Dipper actually snorted, Dipper concealing the sound a little better than his twin. Grunkle Stan gave them a withered look before leaning forward and resting his chin on both hands. “I just wish I knew how to get you out from under his thumb.”

 

For all that Grunkle Stan worried, though, Dipper wasn't sure he was capable of being that concerned over Bill. 

* * *

 

Mabel had watched as the doctor congratulated Dipper on his new form, carefully casting his arm and reassuring Grunkle Stan that there were no other disconcerting injuries. He declared that the wound on the side of Dipper's neck was surprisingly clean for someone who had gone missing for almost more than twenty-four hours. When the doctor had tried to dispose of the bone, however, Mabel had to help Dipper by sneaking it out of the trashcan and hiding it somewhere safe when the doctor wasn't looking. They figured it would be odd explaining why he insisted on keeping an object like that, especially since Grunkle Stan had forbidden any of them to mention Bill to anyone outside the shack.

 

She had almost gotten in trouble for looking through the medical equipment on the doctor's truck. She was overly fascinated with how much it reminded her of a veterinarian's mobile for visiting and treating large animals. She and Dipper practically had to be dragged away before she started rattling off questions about what it was like seeing and caring for shifters.

 

Later that night, as Dipper settled onto his mattress with a pleased sigh, she slid off hers and asked, “Bro bro, can I sleep with you?”

 

Dipper stared up, rubbing his eyes before sharing a small smile. “Sure, get in.”

 

She crawled under the covers with her twin, wrapping her arms carefully around his middle as he rested his broken arm on her side. Once she was holding him, though, the tears she hadn't wanted to let loose upon his arrival back home came spilling down her cheeks and she whispered, “I was afraid they wouldn't bring you back.”

 

She sniffled when her brother held her a little tighter. “I was afraid I wasn't coming back.”

 

After a few moments of quiet, they resigned to the fact that they weren't going to be getting any sleep that night. Instead, they talked for a long time about what it had been like staying with a dragon. Dipper described Bill enthusiastically, telling her about his cave and his hoard. He told her how he understood their language and what it sounded like when he tried to speak. They wound up giggling about it before Mabel asked, “Do you think you can survive with him for a week?”

 

Then she really saw how nervous her brother was. Scratching his head nervously, he answered, “I think so.” He sighed, and it came out more animal than human. “It's actually scarier, thinking of him in terms of being a local legend.”

 

“I think we need to get Wendy and Soos to tell us some more of these shifter tales.”

 

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” Then Dipper snorted. “Grunkle Stan was going to punch Bill in the face. Oh my God.”

 

“Really?” Mabel snickered, though she could have imagined it must have been really scary at the time. After a moment's pause, she asked, “Do you think I could meet him?”

 

She could see her brother's smile. “I want you to. I think Grunkle Stan's gonna have to approve of that trip though.”

 

“Can't I just sneak into your backpack and go?”

 

“Hey, I won't stop you. But I don't think the old man can handle both of us disappearing so soon.”

 

“Yeah, probably not.” It was clear their great uncle was still very much shaken by the ordeal, no matter how many times her brother swore he was as safe with Bill as he could get with a dragon. 

* * *

 

“Put this on,” Grunkle Stan ordered before shoving a hat down on Dipper's head. Dipper obeyed, looking at the blue and white cap bearing a pine tree before adjusting it on his head. “That way if your ears pop up, you can tuck them underneath.”

 

“Thanks.” Dipper was slightly annoyed that he still had little to no control over his transformations. Then again, it had only been a few days and his sister wasn't exactly learning any better either. There just seemed to be more pressure on him to control it because of a certain gigantic friend of his.

 

“Now, there shouldn't be many tourists out today, but just in case,” he gestured to the hat again before they climbed into the car.

 

As Dipper buckled up, he glanced at his twin and suddenly asked, “Why isn't she wearing a hat?”

 

“She has more hair.” His great uncle started the engine and Dipper supposed he was right. Still, it seemed a little unbalanced. The hat was comfortable, though. “Plus she can pull off the lying bit about being an otaku that Wendy and Robbie came up with.”

 

Dipper rolled his eyes at that, Mabel laughing loudly and talking endlessly about how Robbie introduced her to anime the day before while Dipper was taking shifting lessons from Wendy. It was infuriating, really, how shifting came so naturally for Mabel and yet seemed so out of control for him. He couldn't say he didn't like the extra time spent with Wendy, however. She was awesome, and explained things better than Soos or Stan. Soos, while helpful, wasn't a shifter. Stan was more like Mabel: it just happened naturally. It was Wendy that explained how deeply connected emotions were to secondary forms, how the feelings surrounding a shifter's first transformation have the potential to become deeply rooted in that form. She had had to learn to control her frustration after her first shift. Now she was going to help him learn to control his fear.

 

Thinking of his sister he guessed he was happy that Robbie, as much as he seemed like a jerk, was willing to entertain her while Dipper was gone though. The only reason Robbie was added to the list of people allowed to know where Dipper was going the following week was because he was currently Wendy's boyfriend and Mabel's new friend. The two had seemed so unlikely to get along, and yet they seemed to have hit it off as soon as Wendy introduced them. “Did you know Robbie can turn into a vulture _and_ a crow?” Mabel asked excitedly.

 

“No,” but that seemed only right since he practically lived in the graveyard.

 

“It's awesome! He says Wendy's so jealous of him!”

 

“I bet she is,” Dipper uttered disbelievingly.

 

“He told me about all their friends! Nate's a mouse and Lee's a squirrel, Thompson's a cat like me, and Tambry's a snake,” she waved her arms enthusiastically, and suddenly Dipper was leaning his head against the window, unsure over whether he wanted the week to end as he realized just how much fun Mabel was probably going to have without him. His twin gasped beside him and she cried out, “They said there's a chameleon girl our age in town. I must find her and befriend her!”

 

Dipper sighed. “Sounds great.” It was kind of hard being excited when he wanted to be there to have all these discussions (minus the anime, which he could do without). It was also hard being excited about being the one who had befriended a dragon when he couldn't tell anyone about it. He was sure he would be happier if he at least got to say why he was going away every other week. He sighed again. “Grunkle Stan, why can't anyone know about Bill?”

 

“Simple,” his great uncle began. “There are people who would like to bag a dragon's head just to say they did it.”

 

Mabel gasped, and Dipper was equally mortified. “What, like, hunters?”

 

“We call them poachers here. We try to keep as many out of town as possible, for the safety of our folk. We've seen a few who don't care whether you're shifter or monster. They'll still take you in. It happens a lot to shifters out of town.” Grunkle Stan sounded sad at that. “Sometimes they make it past our borders. Most of the time we're good at spotting them.” He could see his great uncle's brow furrowing in the rearview. “As much as I'd like to see this little deal of yours with Cipher end, he still falls under the shifter category so long as he respects the territory rules. And I don't want you hurt if a poacher finds out your friends with him. The fewer people who know about you, the harder it'll be for anyone to use you.” With that in mind, Dipper felt a little better about keeping his mouth shut and a little guiltier for asking. “That's another good reason for you to keep your changes under control, kid.”

 

He nodded, returning to leaning on the window. Once they arrived in town, they parked and proceeded to go through each store looking for things he might need while gone. When anyone asked, they simply said he was going on a camping trip with a family member from out of town. When his broken arm was addressed, he just told them, “I did something stupid,” and sometimes that made people laugh. Mostly, it just reminded him of how strange things were for him now. They'd been strange before, but now it seemed his life had just taken a trip down a hobbit hole.

 

A day later, Dipper was packing and getting ready to go. “Please tell me you packed more outfits than that?” Mabel asked.

 

“Why? I'm not going to be able to change or bathe. What's the point?” His sister let out a noise of utter disgust and he thought then again, that didn't mean he wasn't going to be washed. He shuddered at the idea of receiving another, much more prolonged tongue bath from Bill, his eye twitching from the sheer thought.

 

“Just pack some extras. For my sake,” Mabel begged.

 

He complied, but not without complaint. Packing mostly consisted of stuffing his bag full with enough food to allow for at least five meals a day. He tested the straps of the knapsack that buckled in front, pleased that they worked well enough that if Bill saw fit to pick him up by the backpack it might hold. He didn't put it past the dragon to do such a thing. “I'd send you with fishing equipment, but I don't trust you to cook anything yet. I don't even trust you near a fire,” Grunkle Stan huffed as Dipper attached his sleeping bag to the top of the overstuffed backpack. He wasn't sure he would need it, but the others insisted on sending it with him anyway.

 

“I can build a fire,” Dipper said defensively.

 

“Dipper, you almost burned down our backyard once,” Mabel declared. Then she asked her great uncle, “Can I come too? I wanna see him off.”

 

“Maybe next time,” Stan promised. Ruffling her hair and ears, he said, “I don't want him thinking he can have you too, yet.” The twins shared a sad yet knowing look.

 

Early the next morning, Dipper was being pulled reluctantly from his still sleeping sister's grasp. She woke up as Wendy was heaving his sack over her shoulder and Dipper was fighting to put on his socks and shoes with only one working hand. Throwing her arms around her brother, she let out several meows of protest before letting go and settling back down on his bed. “I'll text Robbie to come over ASAP, Mabs,” Wendy promised. Mabel nodded her thanks, then hesitantly drifted back off to sleep as Dipper, Stan, and Wendy made their way downstairs.

 

“You don't have to come if you don't want to,” Grunkle Stan uttered to Wendy.

 

“I know. But it'll look better if we both bring him back since we both 'took him,'” she used air quotes for emphasis. “Right Dipdop?” Dipper nodded, glad Wendy somewhat understood. Meanwhile his great uncle still very much wished he could pick a fight with Bill, but wouldn't for his sake. Patting his shoulder, Wendy reminded him, “When you start to panic, remember to breathe. If you get angry and horns pop out of your forehead, don't freak out. The key to control is relaxing.”

 

Dipper nodded. “I'll remember.” Taking one last look at the shack as they walked out the door, he rubbed his eyes and hoped he didn't get too homesick while gone. He might not think of the Mystery Shack as his home yet, but things wouldn't be the same without Mabel. There was still so much about this deal they had to work out.

 

As if guessing what he was thinking, Grunkle Stan muttered, “Maybe when we see him again we can convince Cipher to shorten the interval to three days. A week might be a bit much to pack for.”

 

“No kidding. This thing's a bit heavy,” Wendy said, shifting the bag on her shoulder.

 

“Maybe I'll get some muscles toting it around,” Dipper said, offering to take it from her.

 

She shook her head and said she had it for the time being. “You can lug it around when we get to his territory. Impress me then, little buddy.”

 

Dipper agreed, staying close to the two as they stepped deeper and deeper into the woods.


	7. Chapter 7

“Honestly, I'm surprised he's not where we left him.”

 

“Guess he could only glare at our backs for so long.”

 

Dipper didn't bother correcting them and saying he wasn't glaring. He knew what Bill looked like when he was glaring, and that wasn't glaring.

 

“If he doesn't show up, I say we call it quits and bring Dipper back home.”

 

“No, we made a promise. He's probably just making sure with keep that promise and actually bring him back.” Wendy seemed to have a little more of an idea of what the dragon wanted than Grunkle Stan. Still, she looked nervous to be heading back into his territory. Honestly, Dipper was nervous too.

 

“You know, I could just keep going and—”

 

“No,” he was cut off by his great uncle, and he was actually glad of it. Despite how uneasy they all were, he still didn't want to be left in the woods alone. Not after what happened last time he was out here alone.

 

Dipper folded his arms across his chest, his broken arm lying awkwardly over his other arm while he tried not to think about it and struggled to keep up. A small noise escaped his mouth which he almost successfully concealed. Almost. Wendy turned to look at him and he knew he couldn't lie about it. “You're scared. What's wrong?”

 

Well, he knew he couldn't but he was going to try. “I'm okay.”

 

“No you're not. Deep breaths, man. Bill's a friend, right? No need to be scared.” Maybe so, but he was still a dragon and Dipper hadn't seen him in a week. Something might have changed. He might have decided that eating them was a better idea. “Keep stressing and you're gonna get spots. Come here.” She held out an arm, which he quickly slid under. Walking with her arm around him (as much as it could be, she was still so much taller), he slowly started to feel better.

 

He even smiled when Grunkle Stan pushed the hat further down on his nose. “Let me do the freaking out, kid. You're the one who talked him down the last time.”

 

While that wasn't entirely true, he would take it. For now they just continued venturing deeper into Bill's territory, the sound of running water swiftly approaching them. The continued lack of sight of the dragon made Dipper squirm. He didn't know the extent of Bill's territory and probably should have thought to ask, but he hadn't. He could always ask then, but instead he opted to say, “I'll take my bag now.”

 

“Alright,” Wendy said, shifting the bag off her shoulder and holding it out for Dipper to slide his arms into the straps. When it dropped on his shoulders, he almost fell over. “Whoa!” she caught him and helped him steady himself. Buckling the strap in front, she held up her hands tentatively before giving him a thumbs up. “You good?”

 

“Yeah.” It was heavy, but he could manage. A few more steps of course, and he was feeling the weight. “You don't think something's happened, do you?”

 

“I doubt it, man. He'll show up event—”

 

There was a crashing noise behind them complimented with the sound of large wings. The ground shook and, just as he had suspected would happen, Dipper was being picked up off the ground by the backpack. Against his will he let out a series of surprised inhuman noises as he stared wide eyed down at his family, who looked like they were trying desperately not to panic. Dipper stopped flailing long enough to hear the dragon's humming and start calming down. “Bill, can I—?” The dragon growled, cutting Dipper off. “Okay then.” He waved to Wendy and Grunkle Stan. “See you in a week, I guess.” Heart still pounding rapidly from the initial surprise, he was really glad the backpack was holding because otherwise he'd be flipping out about slipping out. He was going to have to close his eyes though, because the height was starting to make him dizzy.

 

“Please be careful with him,” Wendy begged Bill.

 

“Hurt him and I'll kill you,” Grunkle Stan declared. Then he uttered almost inaudibly, “Somehow.”

 

Bill snorted, air shooting across Dipper's head and almost sending the hat flying. Dipper decided to close his eyes for the journey to wherever the dragon decided to take him from there.

* * *

 

He spent a good chunk of the day going over Pine and figuring out where he'd been based on scent. Once the young shifter had shrugged off his pack in the cave, the dragon trapped him between his paws and proceeded to examine. He recognized many of the smells, such as the ones he'd possibly picked up in the town and the forest. He didn't recognize some of the hair, however. He assumed the hair was from other shifters. A wolf, a cat, a dog, there were many. Pine was understanding for the most part, laughing when the dragon's muzzle rubbed his sides a little too lightly. It was entertaining, watching the young shifter experience body spasms and laughing as he did so just from the dragon's investigations. These were the only times Pine would push his nose away and cry out, “Stop that!”

 

Staring at Pine's ears, his eye narrowed as he licked one and the shifter squirmed. Making a face of discomfort, Pine wiped his ear as the dragon hummed questioningly. The shifter seemed confused for a time, then he realized what the dragon was asking. He watched as the shifter closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. Nothing happened for a few seconds, then the humans ears started slowly shifting into deer ones. The dragon let out an approving purr before nuzzling the more familiar features. While he knew the other features were the ones Pine was born with, he preferred these ones. They clearly distinguished Pine from humans, who could be annoying at best. He also felt these features suited the tiny shifter.

 

Pine chuckled as one of the dragon's claws reached up to flick one of the ears. Then he said, “Yeah. I'm working on the transformation stuff.” The dragon dropped his muzzle again and bumped the shifters covered arm gently. The sling was different, and the piece of his hoard he'd given the shifter was missing. After another inquisitive hum from the dragon, Pine responded, “I had to get a cast. I still have the . . . um . . . the bone. It's in my bag.” The dragon purred again, then pushed the shifter down to lay his head across his small body. Pine squealed and protested at first, the relaxed beneath him and even attempted to wrap his arms around the dragon's jaw. “I missed you too.” He felt a tug at his lips before raising his head and dragging his tongue through the tiny shifter's hair. Pine squirmed again and let out a whine. “This again? Why?” The dragon ignored his protests, cleaning his hair and holding the shifter in place with his paws so he couldn't crawl away.

 

He simply couldn't have the small thing walking around smelling like that town after all. Not while he was staying here with him.

* * *

 

“Do you know any good shifter tales?” Mabel asked Robbie after finishing _Black Butler_ and starting a marathon of _Soul Eater_. 

 

Robbie squinted as he looked up at the ceiling and considered the question. “I actually didn't get too many tales as a kid.”

 

“Why not?” she asked.

 

“Meh. Too busy getting funeral stories I guess.” That sounded about right. Robbie's family was pretty wrapped up in their business. At least they liked their job and showed genuine interest in doing things well. Then again, if she looked at things from her absent twin's point of view, Robbie's parents seemed a little _too_ dedicated to their work.

 

Blinking, she asked, “But everyone knows the one about Cipher the dragon?”

 

Robbie nodded. “It's a pretty common one. You heard it, right?”

 

She nodded. “I just wanted to hear about some others.”

 

Pulling out his phone, Robbie starting texting and said, “If Wendy weren't busy, she could really rattle some off.” Finishing up a message, he close his phone and waited. “Maybe Thompson will have some for you.”

 

Mabel smiled. “Thanks, Robbie.”

 

The older boy shrugged. “It's not everyday I get an otaku buddy.”

 

“Wendy doesn't watch this stuff with you?”

 

He shook his head. “She says the eyes freak her out, along with the oversized boobs.”

 

Mabel squinted at the television set, comparing each of the female characters and saying, “Some of them are kinda big, though.”

 

He shrugged again. “I think the guys' pronounced muscles make up for it. It's the style.”

 

“Eh. I just like the story.”

 

“Oh yeah? Try explaining the plot line of an anime to someone to sell them on watching it. Pass that test, then you're a god among mortals.”

 

Mabel snorted. “Sounds easy enough. I bet I can get all your friends watching anime with us.”

 

Robbie chuckled then. “The trick is you can't finish the sale with the words 'just watch it and you'll understand.' Think you can pull that off?” She nodded enthusiastically. “I'll hold you to that. Don't tell anyone it was my idea, though.”

 

“Never,” she declared, holding her hand up showing that she swore not to. The only person she'd told was Dipper, and he was currently . . . not present. She tried not to miss him, tried to focus on just being here with a friend. It was difficult though, because she wanted to share these stories with him so bad.

 

His phone buzzed and he opened to check it. Reaching for the remote to stop the marathon, he said, “Thompson's driving over to pick us up. Let's go chill with the guys. They can answer all your questions.”

 

“Really? Cool!” she said, hopping up. She followed Robbie out of the shack, both waving to Wendy as they proceeded onward to learn of shifter legends.

* * *

 

His first day back with Bill, Dipper had to get comfortable with the dragon again. He wasn't given much choice. The following days, however, went by rather swiftly. He relearned that Bill didn't need to eat as often as he did, and he took naps a great deal of the time. When they weren't in the cave, they were by the lake. Bill often spent his time out lying on a rock with his wings outstretched (sunbathing like a lizard, Dipper had to keep from saying). On one of these trips, Dipper also figured out that the dragon enjoyed swimming. He'd dive under for a minute, leaving Dipper alone on the shore, then reemerge with God-knows-what in his mouth. Sometimes it was fish, sometimes it was sunken boats and what was in them, and sometimes it was bones. The fish he swallowed whole, the boats and their contents he and Dipper sorted through curiously, and the bones he kept to add to his hoard.

 

Learning about Bill's love of swimming tied into learning the dragon enjoyed picking him up and dropping him into freezing cold water without giving him the opportunity to say no or a moment's warning. His screaming upon breaking the surface was funny enough to make Bill laugh loud enough to scare away nearby birds. Needless to say, Dipper's cast was ruined rather quickly and he would need to get it replaced as soon as possible. Tying a sling around his arm again upon getting back to the cave, he was glad to be a strong enough swimmer that he hadn't immediately sunk to the bottom with only one working arm. He was also glad he'd gone ahead and packed an extra set of clothes 'for Mabel's sake,' because walking around in wet ones was never enjoyable despite Bill being a gigantic heater he could just lean against and get warm.

 

While pulling his soaked shirt off, he was suddenly assaulted by Bill rubbing his muzzle up and down his back and humming excitedly. Dipper almost fell forward from the force with which the dragon was pushing him. “Calm down,” he protested. As he was righting himself, he felt the dragon lick his back and he let out an inhuman noise of surprise. It felt odd, like all of his hairs were standing on end and his skin was tingling. Turning his head to glare up at the smiling dragon, he started to yell, “What the—?” He quieted as he looked over his shoulder and caught sight of what Bill was making a big fuss about: his back was covered in dark fur and white spots. Staring at the pattern, it seemed . . . different. He'd seen white-tailed deer before, and this wasn't the pattern of a fawn of that species. He could have sworn it had been a deer like that that he'd seen. Maybe he'd misidentified. Shrugging, he thought, “Maybe Wendy's right. It might be elk after all.” Shaking his head to get the water out of his hair, he started to scratch the inside of each ear when Bill took the shirt from his hand and tossed it over his shoulder to the back of the cave. “Hey!” Dipper cried out, getting up to go after it. The dragon growled warningly and he stopped in his tracks. “I have another shirt, you know.” Bill's eye narrowed and he sighed. “You expect me to go shirtless the whole time? What if I get cold?” The dragon snorted and pushed Dipper to the ground again, placing his head over the shifter in that strange partial hug he sometimes did. Huffing at the dragon (but also appreciating the warmth), he admitted, “Fine. You win.” As always. He didn't say it aloud, but he wanted to.

 

The most terrifying thing he learned about Bill was how loud the dragon sneezed. He'd been asleep, lying beside the dragon tucked into his sleeping bag and under the massive wing Bill had let him examine at some point. The sneeze was so loud and the dragon's whole body had shifted so suddenly that Dipper woke up with an animal scream that surprised both of them as much as the sneeze had surprised him. Again, the dragon laughed at his panic. Heart still racing, Dipper complained over and over again about how that hadn't been funny. He had thought Bill had just, he didn't know,  _died_ and the noise had given him a heart attack.

 

The funniest thing that happened that week had been when Bill's eye shot open and his scales had stood up midday during one of his naps. For a moment, Dipper thought there was an intruder and he'd almost run to hide beside Bill. It had been easy getting used to doing that because once the day before, a creature Dipper hadn't actually seen but had heard started approaching him and Bill at the lakeside. He had realized it wasn't as near as he'd thought, his heightened hearing having picked up the predator before it had shifted into view. Still, he let out a distress call and crawled under Bill's lowered wing as the dragon snarled and warned the other beast not to approach. It didn't, thankfully. It was twenty minutes before Bill could coax him back out from under the dragon's wing, as Dipper couldn't stomach the idea of being attacked again by a monster.

 

But that wasn't what happened. Bill went from lying down to throwing his head against the side of the cave and rubbing his head furiously against the rock. Dipper watched this for a moment before it clicked in the back of his head what was going on. “Do you have an itch?” The dragon growled, paws and eyes twitching as he lowered his head again and failed to reach the spot he was aiming for. Dipper knew he failed by how he kept trying to reach for a particular spot behind his horns. “Want me to get it?” he hesitated to ask. He took the dragon almost slamming his head into Dipper as a yes. “Okay okay,” he uttered nervously, never having gotten a chance to look this closely at the scales that sometimes stood up on Bill's neck before. He guessed the itch was under one of the larger ones and started shoving his hands behind the hard plates to scratch the rough skin. The dragon's paws and eyes twitched until he apparently found the right spot. Then Bill sort of collapsed and hummed, eye drooping as he let out a loud sigh. He sounded almost like a dog for a moment, and Dipper smiled as he continued scratching until the scales started to lower back into place. Pulling his hands out of their way, he whispered, “Better?” The dragon responded by humming appreciatively and lying partially on Dipper's lap. Dipper got comfortable, leaning against the dragon's side as he resumed sleeping.

 

Dipper caught himself imagining what it would look like if Bill tried scratching that spot by rubbing his head and neck against a tree. He almost woke the dragon again and got set up on the ledge doubling over from laughter over the image of Bill's horns getting stuck on a tree and uprooting it in his effort to scratch the itch.

 

Living with a dragon involved a lot of quietude, but there was hardly a dull moment with Bill. That, above all things, was what else Dipper learned during his stay.

* * *

 

While out and about with Robbie and the teens, Mabel heard any number of tales she would have to recount to her brother when he returned. It was no surprise to her that many of the tales heavily resembled Aesop's fables, only the animals were actually shifters and humans. Her absolute favorite was still a story about a lion and a princess falling in love.

 

On one of these outings, she got to meet the chameleon girl Grenda and her hamster friend Candy. They were fast friends, and soon Mabel had plenty of people to distract her while Dipper was away. She still missed her best friend and twin, though.

 

It was on one of their trips out that they bumped into a white haired boy shorter than all three of them. He'd seen her sporting her cat ears and tail and asked, “Are those what I think they are?”

 

His voice was high and he looked utterly starstruck by the sight of them. Human, she immediately thought. He must be human. “If you think they're a part of my cosplay as a cute cat lady, then yeah!” she quickly lied. While not a fan of lying, she thought it wise to at least test his knowledge of Gravity Falls citizens.

 

Folding his arms, he narrowed his eyes but didn't drop the smile. “It's not nice to tell stories, you know.”

 

She narrowed her eyes back, also keeping her grin. “How long you been living here, buster?”

 

“Long enough to know what's up. And to know that you're not from around here.”

 

She snickered. “I'm Mabel Pines.” She held out her hand and he looked almost enchanted to touch her palm and shake it.

 

“Pines, you say?” The boy's beaming face faltered slightly. “How can a gem like you be related to an imbecile like Stanford?”

 

It was at this moment that the hairs on the back of her neck started to rise. She felt her tail grow bushy and her ears pin and the hiss that escaped her lips almost made her jump. She was glad when Grenda caught her and carried her away before she tried to discern whether or not she should see if she had retractable claws in this partial form. He'd called her Grunkle Stan an  _imbecile_ . Who did he think he was?

 

When Grenda and Candy got her isolated in the graveyard where they were scheduled to meet up with the teens, Mabel stopped spitting and posturing long enough for Candy to explain, “That's Gideon Gleeful. He's from a human family that's lived her for a long time.”

 

“He's weird,” Grenda declared.

 

“He's a _jerk_!” Mabel was still furious over the way he'd squinted and insulted her great uncle. “I don't like him!”

 

“He seemed to like you, though,” Candy pointed out. When Mabel hissed, they dropped the subject in favor of finding something to calm Mabel down.

 

Meanwhile Gideon mused over her back at home, muttering at random quiet intervals to no one in particular, “She's perfect.”

 


	8. Chapter 8

Grunkle Stan and Wendy came to claim him after the first week was up. It was then that the idea for three day exchanges was proposed. Bill actually liked that better, Dipper thought. It meant he'd see the young shifter sooner.

 

As soon as they were out of sight of the dragon, Wendy was shoving his shirt over his head. “Time to go back to civilization, bud.”

 

“And what the hell happened to your cast?” Stan asked.

 

“Long story. I'll tell it to all of you and Mabel.”

 

The routine tradeoff became somewhat normal. He liked the shorter intervals, because he didn't feel as though he were missing out on so much. He got to hang out with Wendy and practice control over his shifting while Mabel and Robbie watched anime or Mabel hung out with the newly met Grenda and Candy. His favorite times had to be when all the teens came by to hang out. The only difficult part about that was not blurting out anything about the dragon.

 

His first full transformation into a young elk was with Mabel, who managed to talk him through it until Wendy could come in from the shop. Once he'd returned to a semi human form, he felt like controlling his shifting had actually grown a heck of a lot easier for him.

 

One day, when he was pushing Mabel in a cart around the store, he discovered that she had neglected to tell him she had made an enemy. He learned this when they passed a white haired kid in the canned goods section and she started hissing. Still in human form with no cat traits to be seen, she was hissing at this boy.

 

And he was just staring back at her, utterly smitten. “How are you, Peach blossom?”

 

“Mabel, what—?” he was interrupted by a particularly loud hiss.

 

The boy turned to him as if noticing Dipper for the first time. His eyes widened in shock, grin turning . . . Dipper actually flinched and leaned away from the other boy. “There are two?” He approached Dipper, Mabel following his every move from within the cart like she was actually a caged cat. “Gideon Gleeful. What a nice surprise!”

 

Dipper didn't take the hand the kid then offered him, instead glancing to the way his sister spat and growled. “Sorry Gideon, but,” he hesitated, “if my sister doesn't like you, I probably shouldn't either.”

 

Gideon's smile faltered for a moment, then came back stronger with a distinct lack of sanity. Dipper was actually scared for a moment. “Do I at least get a name before you completely snub me?”

 

Highly unnerved, Dipper didn't see the harm in giving over a name. Gideon already seemed to know Mabel. Still, the way the kid's face had appeared to crack before reshaping itself into something more terrifying . . . Dipper didn't like him. He could see why his twin didn't either. “Dipper. Pines.” Short and sweet, but perhaps a little lacking on the sweet as he started pushing the cart past the other boy quickly to get his sister to stop hissing. “Bye,” he uttered quickly.

 

He heard a dark chuckle and hoped to God he'd just imagined it. With that, he turned back to Mabel and asked, “Who was that guy?”

 

“A jerk!” Mabel practically shrieked. “He insulted Grunkle Stan, and I don't like him!”

 

“To be fair, Mabel, it's not hard to insult Grunkle Stan—”

 

“I don't care, he shouldn't have—”

 

“Let's just calm down before we sprout ears and tails, okay? Can't have that now.”

 

“I'll claw his face off!”

 

“Claw whose face off?” Grunkle Stan asked, rounding the corner as Dipper was pushing his sister to the front of the market.

 

“This Gideon kid,” Dipper responded.

 

Their great uncle narrowed his eyes. “Yeah, I hate that kid.”

 

Mabel let out a feline noise of agreement as they proceeded to checkout. As the cashier scanned the items, Dipper glanced across the aisles and caught the eye of a couple of tall men in hunting gear and sunglasses. While their eyes were covered, it seemed like the mustached gentleman was watching him. Dipper glanced away, staring ahead at his great uncle and twin before sideglancing back at the man. He was still watching. It unnerved him.

 

What unnerved him most was that he hadn't seen either man before. Hissing to get Grunkle Stan's attention, he asked, “Do you know them?”

 

The old man looked over at the men discreetly before giving Dipper a slight shake of his head. “Avoid them. They smell like bad news.” Dipper believed him. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck start to rise and he clamped his mouth shut to keep any noises from escaping his lips. The men wouldn't have bothered him so much if he didn't have something to hide from any outsiders, and they most certainly had to be outsiders.

 

When they made it to the car, it was Mabel's turn to try and help Dipper calm down enough to maintain a semi-human appearance.

* * *

 

Mabel was beside herself with excitement. How she was bouncing up and down this early in the morning was beyond her, and it was far beyond the barely able to walk Dipper. But no matter what, she was ecstatic that Grunkle Stan had finally allowed her to tag along with them and meet Bill.

 

“Just don't run off with him yet,” the old man warned.

 

“But what if he likes me enough to keep me too?”

 

“Dipper already gave me about one heart attack enough. Don't become the reason for my next one, Mabel sweetie.”

 

Maybe she didn't become the reason for a heart attack, but she certainly became the reason for busted eardrums. Her jaw dropped upon seeing Bill, and then a shrill noise of excitement sprang from her lips as she ran forward at him. The dragon took a step back at first, slightly confused as she squealed, “He's beautiful!” He perked up, ears flicking forward and a hum escaping his smiling jaws as she wrapped her arms around his chest. Bill looked to her brother with what seemed to be approval and she beamed up at him. “Does he like me? I think he likes me.”

 

“Keep complimenting him and I don't think he'll give you back,” Dipper teased as he stepped forward.

 

“Well, you are the most beautiful dragon I have seen and I have seen a lot of pictures of dragons on the internet. You win the prize.” Bill let out a deep laugh as Mabel stepped back.

 

She watched with mirth as Bill immediately dropped his head to her brother's level and nipped at the front of his shirt. “Yeah yeah, I'm taking it off. Chill,” Dipper declared as he dropped his backpack and started shucking off his shirt.

 

Mabel turned back to Bill and whispered loudly to him, “Think I could visit you too next go round?” She clapped and shrieked excitedly again when he nodded, watching his ears flick about happily. “You take good care of my bro-bro, right? Is he high maintenance?” The dragon nodded, then shook his head. She scrunched her nose. “That doesn't seem right. He's usually hard to keep track of.”

 

“You really think a dragon lets him out of his sight?” Wendy asked as the now bare chested Dipper pulled his backpack back into place and let his ears shift.

 

Without thinking, Mabel blinked up and asked, “Did Dipper ask you how you lost your eye?”

 

“Mabel, you don't just ask someone how they lost their eye,” Dipper corrected as Bill snorted at her.

 

The next thing she knew, the dragon was nudging her with his muzzle and humming. Turning to her brother, she asked, “What's he saying?”

 

“He wants to see your second form.”

 

“Oh!” She blinked once and her ears and tail appeared without much resistance. The dragon practically purred and grinned at her as he nuzzled and ear. She snickered and stepped back in time for Bill to casually pick her twin up by his backpack. “I guess I'll see you next time, Bill the dragon.” Bill hummed and her brother waved as he was carried off by the dragon. Mabel sighed and let her ears and tail remain as Wendy and Grunkle Stan led her back to the Mystery Shack. “I like him,” she said wistfully.

 

“He's a dragon. You're doomed to either like or fear him.”

 

“Some stories say if he sings you'll be hypnotized,” Wendy said positively as Grunkle Stan grumbled about the dragon taking both the twins.

 

“Maybe I'll get Dipper to try to get him to sing!” Mabel decided.

 

“Please don't,” Grunkle Stan said.

 

Looking back, she really liked Bill and Bill seemed to like her too. She was excited to have finally met the dragon her brother talked so much about.

 


	9. Chapter 9

It had been exactly thirty-seven days since he had first laid eyes on one Mabel Pines, and he still had not gotten her to say a single kind word to him. That was fine. Just getting her to look at him was fine by him.

He couldn’t describe how good it felt, having her acknowledge him. He couldn’t describe the way his heart beat rapidly at the faintest sight of her. She was . . . gorgeous. She was incredible. Such long and luscious hair, so thick he’d love to have the honor of brushing it. Running his fingers through it. Such big, beautiful eyes. Her voice. Her energy. She was every bit as perfect as perfect could be, and his imagination didn’t seem to do her justice. He had to find excuses to seek her out just so he could keep a clear, perfect image of her amazingness at the forefront of his mind. She was too perfect in person, he couldn’t fathom not seeing her.

Going for days without seeing her got difficult. Not seeing her for a week had him antsy and irritated with his family. He needed to see her face. Her face made life in this poor town worth living. He went out every day, waiting to glimpse at least one member of her family. Just one could direct him to her. He’d gotten so desperate he even sought out her friends. Grenda and Candy were slightly terrifying both bigger and more questionable in morals than himself, but it was worth it. It was worth it just to catch another glimpse of his peach blossom.

His desperation to see her again was what led him to wait outside the Mystery Shack early one morning. He loathed the foul attraction, hated that such stupidity was what distracted outsiders from the stranger happenings (shape shifters and monsters) within the town. He supposed it served its purpose. He supposed it was needed. But he wasn’t there for the attractions. He was there for the Pines family. For one Pines family member.

And they seemed to be packing up and heading out on a camping trip. His eyes lit and his heart skipped a beat as he caught sight of her. How enchanting. How breathtaking she was. And she hadn’t seen him, hadn’t started hissing. Oh, it was perfect. He hid so well in the woods, though he was now filthy. He concealed so well maybe he could . . . he could just follow them. Keep seeing her with that smile. A smile and not a frown. So radiant. He loved it. He needed it.

He never anticipated to come upon them meeting up in the woods with none other than the famed dragon Cipher. He had always known the dragon was real, had seen it fly from a distance. He was so much bigger up close. His picture was so much clearer when not seen through binoculars.

And she was hugging him. Mabel Pines (and Dipper) were hugging the notoriously violent dragon Cipher.

Gideon Gleeful sat in his hiding spot, wide eyed and in absolute awe of his peach blossom. His Mabel. His beautiful Mabel (and her brother, he didn’t particularly care for him) was a friend to a dragon.

Could she be any more perfect for him?


	10. Chapter 10

It had taken Grunkle Stan long enough to get comfortable at the thought of Mabel going with Dipper to see Bill. It had taken even longer to convince him it was okay if she stayed over with Bill as well as Dipper.

Dipper had been nervous about it at first. There was a hint of jealousy at how susceptible Bill was to her flattery. There was also a great deal of worry he felt whenever she decided to climb over his back and wings, making her way along his spine with cat-like balance and precision. Dipper wondered in perhaps Bill would soon become more attached to his outgoing sister as opposed to him, a shifter boy with hardly a cool first form.

His anxieties would flee as soon as he went quiet and let Mabel and Bill interact. Bill would soon notice he was quiet, then lay his head on Dipper’s back and press him into the ground. Dipper could never stop the happiness that rose up at that makeshift form of hugging that Bill seemed to only do with him. Mabel would receive a nuzzle to the cheek, but Dipper was the one nearly getting crushed by the dragon’s head.

He was also the one currently getting flung into the lake by said dragon. Hitting the water with a smack, he was submerged in cold before reemerging with a deer-like cry of displeasure. Swimming back towards Bill and Mabel, he saw Mabel run under one of Bill’s wings and making the dragon get up and pursue her. He moved slowly so as not to step on her, but didn’t quit pursuing her as he sought to ensure she suffered the same fate as her twin. Mabel was a little more determined to avoid the water than her brother, but seeing as she was a cat . . . .

She was demonstrating her lack of fear for heights by clawing her way up a tree at the moment, hissing as her cat ears pinned and she grasped the tree tightly. Bill was unfazed, plucking her from the tree easily and tossing her in a few feet from where Dipper was now floating. When she reemerged spitting and hissing with ears still flat, Dipper couldn’t withhold the laugh at Bill’s triumph. Much to his amusement, Bill was laughing in his own weird way too.

Swimming back to shore, Bill then proceeded to pin both of them beneath his paws and bathe them with his tongue. Dipper complained the whole time while Mabel’s growls steadily turned into purrs.

While sleeping, Dipper was glad to have the additional warmth of his sister as well as Bill.

\--

One day while he had the twins with him, Bill smelled something disturbingly familiar. Looking up as they roughhoused at his side, they went still as his ears flicked in the direction in which he had caught the scent. Nostrils flaring as his eye darted over the space in the woods where he felt the scent originated, he steadily got to his feet and edged quietly to the line of woods.

A snarl erupted from his maw as he shot forward, the creature fleeing as it realized it had been spotted. Eye locking onto a head of white hair, it was in fact human. A small human, smaller than his twins. Leaving said twins safe within his territory, he pursued the human. It ran, darting under branches and taking every route a small being like it was capable of taking. Routes Bill could not follow easily so he crashed over the woods, stopping only when he reached the edge of his territory. He stopped, roaring angrily as the shifty human escaped him. He watched it run, making certain it did not double back and attempt to reenter his domain.

When it was out of sight, he snorted and turned back to the path he’d taken. He heard Pine tree calling for him in his elk tongue, and he needed to ensure the safety of his property.

\--

Nestled against Bill’s chest and curled around each other, Mabel asked anxiously, “Do you think he saw us?”

When Dipper had interpreted that Bill had indeed been chasing a human away, he had been afraid of the implications. If word got out that they were with the dragon Cipher, anything could happen. Dipper couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to Bill. Bill was so much a part of his life now that he was living in Gravity Falls and he couldn’t imagine a life without him. He was his best friend next to Mabel.

And Mabel was just as scared. “I hope not.”

“Me too,” she said, quiet mewls spilling from her mouth.

Bill then hummed, tightening his forelegs around the both of them and dragging them closer to himself over piles of bones. Feeling the hum against their bodies, they let the sound and vibrations reassure them. Bill wasn’t going to let anything happen to them. That was the dragon’s promise. So far, he had kept it. He had treated them wonderfully, showed them a level of affection humans hardly ever showed their own pets. Grunkle Stan still instilled in them the notion that Bill saw them as pets and not friends, but no matter what the twins thought of Bill as their friend.

“It’ll be okay,” he whispered to his sister. She nodded against him, their foreheads touching. “Bill’s a dragon. He’ll just eat whoever tries to hurt us.”

“Dipper, they might want to hurt him.”

That thought had crossed Dipper’s mind. He couldn’t help but wonder if Bill really was as infallible as the legends suggest. He has survived this long after all.

There was also no reports of any other dragons surviving as long as Bill.

Squeezing his sister to him, he rubbed his cheek against Bill’s scaled chest. Worry ate at him until exhaustion claimed him.

\--

Gideon was still shaken, wandering back into town as he tried to gather himself together. Cipher had seen him. Cipher had even chased him. Cipher could have eaten him. All because he had gotten too close. He had just wanted to see Mabel. He had just wanted to see his peach blossom.

He had almost died.

An anger rose in his throat, a possessiveness he had never known. Who did the dragon think he was, keeping his queen from him? Did the dragon think her a princess? Yes. That must be it. The dragon guards the princess.

Then Gideon would simply have to be her knight in shining armor.

Approaching a section in town, he caught sight of a pair of individuals he had seen earlier. The shape shifters in town whispered amongst themselves, declaring them to be poachers. The mustached man and his partner looked to be disappointed. Likely because of the restrictions on hunting in the area. Then again, they also looked to be whispering quietly. Conspiring. That made sense. Poachers didn’t pay particular attention to laws, right? Well Gideon could help him with that. Local legend was not law. Cipher’s territory wasn’t technically within town limits. He knew. He had checked.

Gideon approached them without fear. “Are you gentlemen looking to make a transaction?”

The men’s eyes narrowed on him before they scoffed and turned away. “Go home, kid,” the one in the mustache dismissed him as they continued their near silent conversation.

Gideon glared at their backs before putting on his most convincing salesman voice. He had learned it from his father. “You looking for a good hunt?”

“What would you know about a good hunt? What are you, nine?” While they were still dismissive of him, they had at least turned around and acknowledged his presence.

“Let’s just say I can help you bag something no one’s ever caught here before.” Or anywhere, for that matter. Dragons weren’t exactly high in supply in the modern day. In fact, he didn’t think they ever were in high supply.

That won him their full attention. “What wives’ tale are you selling, brat?”

Gideon’s grin was massive. “It’s more of a fairy tale. Only, it’s quite real.” He pulled some photographs he had snapped a long time ago when he had seen Cipher flying in the distance from his coat’s inside pocket. Handing it to them, he noted their disbelieving glances to one another. “I can always show you. I’m sure since you’re here in this town in particular, you’re believers in legends yourselves.”

The men’s eyes narrowed on him then. “We’ve heard . . . rumors.”

Gideon batted his eyes at them. “Allow me to prove some of them to you?”

They considered it, then both sighed in unison it seemed. “What do you want, kid?”

That was exactly the question Gideon wanted to hear from them.


	11. Chapter 11

“I win.”

“No, I win!”

“How? The syrup hit my mouth first!”

“I win by default because I’m still the Alpha Twin!”

Dipper shoved Mabel out of the chair. She landed on her feet laughing, and he let out an even grunt at her clearly denoting his displeasure. Grunkle Stan shook his head and got up at the sound of someone knocking on the door. “You two brats be quiet.” Then he added under his breath, “Better not be the authorities.” Opening the door, the twins saw a pair of faces they’d seen in the supermarket one day. Two familiar faces. Poachers’ faces. Dipper’s stomach turned as Grunkle Stan blatantly yelled, “Nope,” and started to slam the door in their faces.

Only the mustached man threw his hand out to catch the door. “Mr. Powers here,” he declared as he shoved the door open again. “This is Mr. Trigger.” The other grunted. “We would like to ask that young man there, some questions.”

Dipper started to shiver, but Grunkle Stan kept his cool. “As his acting guardian, I’m here to tell you buzz off.” He went to shut the door again.

Again, Powers stopped the door with his hand. “As a visitor of this town, I demand,” a gun was raised and pointed at Stan, “to be treated as your guest.”

Dipper’s eyes went wide and Mabel couldn’t bite back her hiss.

Stan snarled.

They were in trouble.

\--

Mabel let out a myriad of disgruntled cat noises as they were forced to sit on the couch at gunpoint. She hadn’t been able to maintain her human appearance in all her anger. Spitting at Gideon and the two poachers, she bristled even at Grunkle Stan’s trying to calm her down.

Her twin, on the other hand, was shivering. How he had been able to keep remain calm for this long without crying out, she had no clue. But she was glad. They were thinking of using him to find Bill, and Bill was too damn sensitive to Dipper’s outcries.

She knew exactly who had led them here, and he was too starry eyed to realize his mistake. His horrible, terrible mistake. Mabel would make him pay. He would pay dearly, she would see that he paid dearly.

Powers and Trigger were testing their radios. “I’ll take the kids, you watch them,” Powers declared.

“Yes sir,” Trigger responded subserviently. He raised his gun and turned toward Mabel and Stan.

Powers then moved forward and reached for Dipper’s arm. Before Mabel could claw him, Stan was snarling in a most feral way and covering the twins with his body. They watched as he slowly turned more canine, and Trigger raised his gun and fired at the ceiling. The shot made everyone go still, ears ringing and the shifters turning back to human once again. Pointing the smoking gun at Stan, Trigger gave him a warning look before Powers declared, “We will shoot you and say you attacked guests in your own house. Now boy,” he reached under Stan and past Mabel, “come with us.”

Dipper whimpered, but his mouth stayed firmly shut. Mabel did the screaming and feline yowling for him. Clutching his arm tight, she shouted, “No! You can’t!”

The twins held onto one another as they were pulled apart. “Let go or else,” Powers hissed as he pulled Dipper more and more from Stan’s and Mabel’s grasps.

“Take your hands off my goddamn nephew!” Stan snarled.

“You can’t, just let him go!” Mabel wailed.

“Cooperate and none of you will be hurt,” Trigger hissed as Powers wrapped both arms around Dipper’s small waist and proceeded to wrench him from their grip.

Mabel was reduced to a pile of crying fur as Dipper was pulled away from them, her twin still reaching back to her with fear in his eyes. Powers carried him out and Gideon followed behind, looking back at Mabel with a sick imitation of love. “This is for you, my peach.”

She yowled at him, and Stan snarled. With Trigger and his gun separating them, they could not follow.

They watched as Gideon and Powers left the house with Dipper in tow, heading into the forest and towards the dragon’s borders.

\--

Dipper squirmed in Powers’s hold the whole way there. He glared off and on at Gideon, his features steadily shifting to the more elk appearance as his loath for the tiny human carrying a duffel of supplies for the poacher grew. His teeth hurt from gritting too hard and his throat was sore from fighting to stay quiet. One yelp. One yelp, and Bill would come crashing from wherever he was at the moment to find him. He couldn’t . . . he couldn’t let that happen.

Tears spilled from his eyes as he tried to pull free of Powers’s grip. He wanted to just break down sobbing already, wanted Bill to save him, but he couldn’t endanger his friend. His friend, a dragon of incredible strength, who could be rendered helpless with a well-placed bullet.

Powers held up his radio. “Any disturbance?”

The radio buzzed. “None. They’re behaving well.”

Dipper hated how they talked about them like they were animals. He glared at Gideon and . . . .

Gideon looked just as angry at the terminology.

Well, there was something in his favor. “Keep them on the couch. We’re nearing the lake.”

Once they arrived at said lake, Powers adjusted his hold on Dipper as he told Gideon to reach into the duffel and pull out a blowup raft. Gideon obeyed, and they waited as said raft self-inflated at the pull of a string. Dipper couldn’t help the quip that left his lips. “Getting tired of carrying me?” Powers ignored him, and Dipper almost wanted to yell at him but knew what would come out if he did. Distress calls were the last thing he needed to make right then.

Once the raft was ready he was dropped into it and, before he could scramble out and away, Powers yanked a set of handcuffs from the duffel and locked Dipper’s wrists behind his back. “Here’s what’s going to happen, kid.” Dipper writhed in the raft, struggling and kicking as it was being pushed out on the water. “You’re gonna get to the middle of the lake, then you’re going to call for Cipher.” Dipper started shaking his head wildly, but Powers held up his radio and said, “If you don’t, I’ll have Trigger pluck every hair from your cat sister’s body.”

For the first time since the start, Dipper heard Gideon shout, “I’ll be damned!”

Powers ignored the kid’s outburst, continuing with, “And if by then you still haven’t screamed, she will be declawed.”

Dipper heard Gideon seething and for a moment, Dipper hoped against hope Powers was bluffing. But he looked up at the man and saw stern resolve. He didn’t trust him. He didn’t trust him not to hurt Mabel. He hadn’t said he would kill her, which Dipper guessed would definitely break whatever arrangement the two poachers had set up with Gideon (that had to be what Gideon wanted, why else would he say it was for her own good?).

But what about Stan?

What about Soos, Wendy, all of everyone else Dipper cared about?

Dipper was almost sobbing as Powers pushed his raft out.

If not for the handcuffs, he might have tried to roll out and swim free. If not for the threat to Mabel’s and Stan’s health, he might have done a lot of things. As it was, he was stuck rocking in the middle of the raft. He looked up over its yellow edge to see Powers dragging Gideon and materials back into the bush, hiding and waiting for the dragon to appear. His ears flicked as the forest grew scarily quiet. The lake was so still as he drifted further and further from the shore. He started to whimper, but quickly silenced. He was still drifting when his eyes grew red from the tears he was too ashamed of. So ashamed. He was about to condemn Bill. He was about to betray his best friend for his family. What choice did he have?

He listened out for any sign. He would take anything. Anything at all. Something had to tell him how to get out of this. He listened to the water lapping at the raft, to the leaves rustling in the distance. He heard nothing from Gideon and the poacher, the occasional quiet buzz of the radio making him anticipate nearing the center of the lake. He heard no birds in the forest. No song filled the air . . . .

No birds . . . .

The forest . . . .

It was near silent . . . .

Dipper’s lungs squeezed shut as he reached the center of the lake and the realization hit him. The forest was quiet. It only went quiet when . . . .

He started gasping, and suddenly his throat squeezed shut. This trap. This was a trap. But . . . who was the real trapper? There was only one way to find out, and he needed his throat to work suddenly.

For Bill.

For Mabel.

For everyone he cared about.

He choked as he fought his throat. He hoped against hope he understood. He hoped against hope that he was right. That he wasn’t, in fact, dooming his best friend by saving his family. There was only one way. One way.

Dipper let out the distress call. It was loud, echoing over the lake.

Silence followed.

A deathly silence.

Dipper let out another, much louder distress call and . . . .

Nothing happened. No crashing through the woods. No flap of wings. Nothing. He had thought . . . what if he’d been wrong? What if another predator had rendered the forest silent? What if he was wrong and he’d . . . he started sobbing freely, the sobs instead taking on that of a young elk in pain. He’d been wrong. He had to have been wrong, and he was going to pay, Bill was going to pay, he was going to lose—

There was an overwhelming splash, like that of something emerging from the lake’s depths. Dipper’s heart stopped as the raft lifted up slightly.

And jaws clamped down around him and yanked him and the raft under.


	12. Chapter 12

Buzz.

 

“He’s gone.”

 

Mabel’s heart stopped at the words.

 

Buzz.

 

“What do you mean he’s gone?”

 

He . . . he couldn’t . . . Bill wouldn’t. She had heard Gideon cursing in the backdrop.

 

Buzz.

 

“The dragon swallowed him.”

 

Everything in her shattered. No. Tears gathered in her eyes. No, that wasn’t right, that couldn’t be right.

 

Buzz.

 

“Explain.”

 

She looked to Grunkle Stan. His face said it all. Water spilled down her cheeks as the news settled in her system swifter than her great uncle could snap.

 

Buzz.

 

“He just popped up and swallowed the whole thing. What more can I s—?”

 

There was a loud roar and a crash. There was a bellowing noise and the sound of terror from both on the other end. There was gunfire.

 

There was no sound of Dipper as the radio went silent.

 

Trigger’s gun had lowered just enough. With Mabel sobbing and the poacher unaware, Stan shot forth and tackled Trigger. Shoving him down and ripping the gun from his grip, he threw the thing away.

 

Then proceeded to wreck one of the men responsible for his nephew’s perceived death.

 

\--

 

The raft fell from his teeth as Pine tree clung to his teeth and tongue as best he could. The boy had to be deaf from his roar, but that he could fix later. For now, he was too busy crushing the larger human under his foot. His claws dragged through the man’s body with ease and he clamped his jaws shut and left Pine tree in the dark. That way the little creature wouldn’t see the dragon slaughter something so brutally.

 

Snarls and growls rumbled as a bullet ripped clean through one of the softer spots of his forelegs. He let out another roar and ripped the poacher in half just for that. Ignoring the wound, he turned to the white haired human. The one who had gotten away the first time.

 

He had done this.

 

Pine tree screamed from within his mouth as Cipher unleashed another roar, then raised his clawed hand to mash down on the fear frozen human. Again, it ran.

 

This time, he would not obey border limits.

 

\--

 

Dipper was choking and deaf from having been nearly drowned and then assailed by Bill’s roar. He held fast to whatever he could grip inside the dragon’s mouth, nearly suffocating from Bill’s hot breath and his grip limited due to the handcuffs. He knew Bill was moving, could feel it in the way the dragon had to fight to keep his head still and thereby keep Dipper safe. When he was able to glimpse through the large fangs once again, he saw they were in pursuit of Gideon.

 

He saw one of Bill’s bloodied feet.

 

He couldn’t tell if it was the dragon’s blood or the blood of the poacher, but the poacher was nowhere to be seen and Dipper had vaguely heard the pop of a gun despite his damaged hearing.

 

Gideon was fast moving, and Dipper was struggling to keep watch of the pursuit and also keep balanced. One blink and they were racing around the lake. Another and they were deep in the woods once more. Bill was relentless, and Gideon was distraught. Dipper was too. Dipper’s heart was hammering and he couldn’t stop his mouth from unleashing screams, couldn’t hear himself to keep quiet. Ears smacking him in the face and tail and back rubbed uncomfortably as he was jostled between Bill’s jaws. It was nearly impossible to keep himself still as Bill chased after the screaming and crying Gideon. Past lake, through wood, over the border, and now into cliffs and gorges towards town. Gideon stumbled and slid into a gorge, and Bill dove for him.

 

The impact through Dipper against his fangs and Dipper hit his head.

 

The last thing he remembered, he’d slipped out on one of Bill’s roars and was falling as well.

 

\--

 

The dragon’s mouth opened as he bellowed at the white haired human, and Pine tree fell out before he could catch him. In a flurry of movement, Cipher went to grab for him but missed. The tiny shifter fell into a deep crack in the earth and crumpled on the dirt and stone in a space too narrow for him to reach into.

 

His instincts told him to continue to follow the creature that had endangered him and Pine tree. But as he looked up, he saw that said creature was using the gorges and narrowed spaces to his advantage and escaping. He roared at the crafty human, then glowered down at Pine tree.

 

Pine tree . . . .

 

He wasn’t moving . . . .

 

Bill ignored the escaping human and reached into the crack for Pine tree with his uninjured foreleg. He clawed at the rock and dirt, only succeeded in spilling earth onto and around the shifter stuck at the bottom. He let out an angry hiss and started to reach in with his sensitive, hurting other leg. When he realized that trying to force his way into the gorge was only making the walls give and collapse from his size and strength, he stilled. He pulled free. If the walls collapsed on Pine tree . . . .

 

Pine tree still wasn’t responding to him.

 

The dragon let out another loud, frustrated roar. It was meant to awaken his shifter. It was meant to get his attention. But he didn’t move. He wasn’t moving, he wasn’t responding, he was just lying there with his head turned away from him and bruises forming. Hands locked together by metal rings, he . . . had he broken him? Had Pine tree broken?

 

For the first time in centuries, fear gripped Bill. It made his chest tighten. It made him freeze.

 

It made him desperate.

 

He paced along the crack, looking for a way in. There had to be another way in. He had to get to Pine tree. He had to get to Dipper, his shifter. If he didn’t, he’d stay broken. Broken forever. He wasn’t supposed to break him. He was supposed to protect him. He didn’t want to add the deer child’s bones to his hoard, no. He had to wake him up.

 

He couldn’t be broken!

 

Bill found a crevice he could fit his head into. It was lower in the ground, and he could just see Dipper in the distance. He could just make out the shifter’s still form. Starting there Bill started to force his way towards him, this time from the side. From a different angle he shoved. Dirt started covering him and rocks fell on him, and the longer Dipper remained still the more he feared he was permanently broken. Clawing at the ground, snapping and hissing at his injured foreleg, he forced his hulking frame through the earth and closer to his shifter.

 

If only he were smaller.

 

He got to a point where he could push no further, and Pine tree was still so far from his reach. He leaned against the crack where he was stuck, reaching out with bloody claws and grasping at the air. He snapped and snarled, unable to push past the stone that blocked his path. Smaller. He should be smaller. Then he could get to Dipper. Then he could reach Pine tree.

 

He roared, hurting and howling as he shut his eye. His scales felt heavy. They felt hot, heavy, and they were crushing him. He couldn’t reach. If he couldn’t reach, he couldn’t . . . he couldn’t . . . .

 

Bill’s scales started to shift. He squeezed his eye shut at the sensation. It felt like they were being pulled from his body one by one by one. But . . . he was slipping through. He was slipping through the crevice, and the fear that gripped him started to slowly, so slowly, be relieved. He didn’t open his eye again until he had fallen through, past the stone, past the too small barrier. He flung his forelegs out to catch himself, keep himself from hitting the ground.

 

He felt . . . lighter.

 

He felt . . . weaker.

 

The dragon opened his eye. His legs, his bloody forelegs, were smaller. Smaller and less scaly. Still clawed, but less scaly. His neck . . . was short. His face . . . flatter.

 

He set aside his changes and crawled forward, closer to Pine tree. The action was awkward. His limbs felt much longer than before, his body so much shorter. He was smaller. He was . . . .

 

Pine tree looked bigger.

 

He nearly fell across the shifter, letting out muffled worried growls and snuffles as he rubbed his much smaller face against Dipper’s. No response. There was no response. His fear swallowed his as he hovered over the shifter’s mouth, feeling for breath. If it was there, it was light. It was so, so light. Dropping his head onto the boy’s chest, he listened and was heavy with relief when he heard Pine tree’s heart. Bill nuzzled Dipper’s face again with his own, trying desperately to rouse him. It was easier to do this, as his face was now only slightly bigger than Pine tree’s. But still, the shifter didn’t respond. On impulse (or in remembrance of how to use these new longer limbs), he gripped Pine tree’s shoulders and started shaking him.

 

He wasn’t waking up.

 

Bill didn’t know how to wake him.

 

Bill’s ears flicked up as he looked up at the air. Town. There were closer to where the humans lived. Get him to the humans. The humans could save his deer boy. Save his shifter, wake him up.

 

Bring him back to Bill.

 

He couldn’t carry Dipper like this. Not in his mouth or claws. Maybe . . . .

 

Instinct. Instinct took hold. He reached down, gathering the boy up in his . . . arms. He ignored the still bleeding gunshot wound, cradling Pine tree to his scaly chest. It . . . wasn’t as scaly. It was mostly covered in skin. Skin like Dipper’s.

 

He stood. On two legs, he stood. Two legs still curved, but much better equipped for him to carry himself upright than before. He flexed his wings. He still had wings. He would carry Pine tree out of this gorge.

 

Then he would fly them to town.

 

He would save his Pine tree.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Turkeys you guys!

It was a normal day for Wendy and the gang. They skipped out on responsibilities and hung out behind buildings, showing off their ears and tails and tongues (in some cases). They laughed and joked and played games while drinking sodas and eating French fries.

 

Then someone screamed.

 

Then a bunch of people screamed.

 

They nearly dropped everything, running to see the source of the commotion. When they emerged from behind the studio they had been hiding behind, they saw a crowd of people gathered around one spot in the middle of the street. Traffic was already scarce in Gravity Falls, but what little they had was completely stopped by the crowd of people.

 

The teens moved closer to the gathering. Wendy’s first thought was that someone had been hit by a car. There was a car stopped. It wasn’t entirely possible, albeit stupid. Pushing her way through the people to get a better look at what was happening, she finally found herself in the front row of a group of people wielding whatever it was in their hands as weapons.

 

In the center of the crowd was a half human, half scaled, winged beast on all fours and stooped protectively over a human she couldn’t see.

 

Wendy’s heart stopped.

 

“Dipper!” she screamed, ignoring the shouted and jeering people as she raced forward. Leaving her friends behind in the crowd, Wendy only stopped with the creature turned and let out an angry roar at her. She stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the single eye that looked back at her through blonde, dirty hair. She looked him over. Golden scales. Golden wings and tail. One eye. Horns, fangs, talons. “Wait,” she mouthed. Half human . . . half dragon. “Bill?”

 

He perked up at the name, his growling ceasing as he seemed to recognize her. She took action, removing her hat and throwing it aside. Letting her ears extend and her body to morph into a similar partial form as his, he perked up even more. Sitting up further and looking less protective of Dipper, he appeared ready to even approach her.

 

Then a stone hit his head, and he turned feral once more and went right back to roaring at the crowd. Hovering over the body of the boy, Wendy got angry too. Spinning on her heel, she snarled at the Gravity Fallers.

 

And heard their accusations that the dragon man had hurt the boy. That Bill had hurt Dipper.

 

Wendy wanted to yell that that was utter bullshit and impossible. She was about to, when her friends shifted slightly and took on similar half forms as her. They surrounded them, hissing and growling in response the crowd of humans and shifters that had formed. The people were more reluctant to attack when the teens were surrounding the dragon, which crouched over the unmoving body of Dipper Pines.

 

Taking the opportunity, Wendy lowered herself to the ground and drew nearer Bill and Dipper. Scratching lightly at the asphalt to get his attention, she was glad when he turned toward her once again and displayed that he did in fact recognize her. Lifting up slightly, the crowd started to calm down and cease their shouting. The ceased their declaration that Cipher had broken the truce, that he had killed Dipper, that he was inhuman and a monster. They instead whispered and watched as the wolf shifter crawled closer, all while Robbie, Tambry, Thomspson, and her friends stood guard. They stood guard and kept the people from attacking or striking again.

 

Wendy was within arm’s reach of the dragon and deer boy when she let out a lupine whine, knowing Bill would understand she was asking him to show her Dipper. He let out a low, sad hum of understanding, backing up slightly and speaking in that strange voice of his. “Pine,” he whined, letting her approach Dipper without reservation.

 

She crawled forward slowly, though every part of her just wanted to grab Dipper and shake him. When she saw him, he was bruised and unconscious. Placing a hand on his neck (the dragon actually let her touch him, she was relieved), she felt his pulse. It was there. It was strong. He was just unconscious, and like concussed. Eyeing him once more, she saw that his hands were cuffed together. Right then, she had her evidence that Bill could not have (would never have) done this to her young friend.

 

Standing up, she yelled over the uttering crowd, “Dipper Pines was kidnapped.” That was all she could assume at this point. “Cipher saved him, and now he’s trying to get him help.” Of that she was positive. Bill wouldn’t break a centuries old truce for just any reason.

 

But if his pet . . . if his friend was hurt, he would.

 

Her announcement, strangely, wasn’t met with any protests. The crowd dispersed, but the people didn’t leave. They simply split apart enough to allow them to exit.

 

“That was a lot easier than I thought it would be,” Thompson uttered just loud enough for all of them to hear.

 

Without waiting any longer, Wendy started barking orders to her friends. “Tambry and Robbie, go to the Mystery Shack.” She had a vague sense that something was wrong with Stan and Mabel. If not, they at least needed to know where Dipper was. She knew damn well this wasn’t a day in which Dipper was supposed to visit the dragon and they just . . . someone needed to check on them. Tambry and Robbie obeyed, racing off through the loosened crowd of people. “Thompson, get the van.” It would be easier to drive them to the hospital than to walk. Thompson left, leaving just Nate and Lee. “Go on ahead and warn the doctors we’re coming.” They did.

 

By then, calling an ambulance would take too long. And Wendy needed to stay with Bill. Out of all of them, she was the only one who came close to understanding him. Encouraging him to pick up Dipper and bring him to the van once Thompson pulled up, she was still astonished at his size. He had to squeeze his wings tight against his body and scrunch tight to fit inside the van.

 

All the while, he held Dipper close. He didn’t let him go until they were inside the hospital. Even then, he put up a fight. He snapped and snarled at the doctors at first, only stopping when Wendy told him no. It was okay. They were going to help Dipper, they were going to wake him up. The doctors brought in a gurney, telling Wendy to get the dragon man to set Dipper on it. Bill was reluctant, but with encouragement and promises they would make this better he set Dipper down gently. He watched with a sad expression and a whimper, still reaching out slightly as the doctors rolled Dipper to the back.


	14. Chapter 14

“You can’t walk around without a shirt on.”

 

“Are you gonna put one on him?”

 

That shut the nurse up as she eyed the dragon man. Wendy had managed to get Bill to sit on the ground while they were waiting. Mr. Pines was outside with Mabel, giving a statement to the police. The officers had informed them that there was no sign of the Gleeful family. It looked like they had just skipped town.

 

And there were two dead poachers no one was in a hurry to come up with an apology for.

 

The townsfolk were buzzing with conversation over the appearance of the famed dragon Cipher in partial human form. At some point, the Pines family and friends of them had given up on the secrecy of their relationship with the dragon. It was already evident that Bill was attached. They may as well give the whole truth, from the beginning the twins having started living in Gravity Falls to now. Suddenly, the Pines family had become so much more interesting to the rest of Gravity Falls.

 

The longer they waited, the more Bill drooped to the ground with worry. At some point, His features had started to soften so much—

 

In a flash, he was almost completely human.

 

Bill looked around in confusion when people gasped at his change (and his nudity). Even Wendy started turning slightly red in the face as she let out a noise of embarrassment in Bill’s stead. To be fair, Bill really had no place for embarrassment, no sense of the emotion. He just sat there, staring at his now nearly scale-less body and blinking rapidly. “Guys,” Wendy said, turning to Nate, Lee, Robbie, and Thompson, “can you run and get him some clothes?” They followed through, though she was less authoritative and commanding than before.

 

As Tambry and Wendy helped Bill up and towards the bathroom, Wendy had to work very hard to keep her eyes trained upward on his face. Meanwhile Tambry actually (miraculously) put her phone away and started to take over from here. “Alright,” she said, “time to get you presentable to society again.” Wendy was glad Tambry was so unblushingly able to sit Bill down in one of the bathroom stalls. Pulling a brush out of her purse, she turned to Wendy and said, “Can you get me some soap and water?”

 

Wendy fetched her soap and water, using the pulled off cover to one of the toilet paper dispensers to carry the water. As Tambry began working through Bill’s hair, he sat there watching them with the most confused expression. He glared each time she hit a knot in his hair, and eventually Tambry just let out a huff and pulled scissors out of her purse. Wendy watched as she then proceeded to simply cut the matted hair off the dragon man’s head. “Why do you have scissors and a brush in your purse?”

 

“You just never know when you need a trim and a brush.”

 

Wendy’s eyes narrowed as Tambry worked. “That . . . sounds like something Pacifica Northwest would say.”

 

“Please,” Tambry scoffed, “she just pays someone to take care of her hair—,” her scissors stopped, refusing to cut. “Huh?” Pushing apart the hair on Bill’s head, she and Wendy gasped. “Dude, you still have horns!”

 

“Well, can’t expect him to be completely human, yaknow?” Wendy reasoned. He’d just been a dragon too damn long. Besides, the backs of his hands and tops of his wrists still had small, gold scales decorating them. His eye had also retained a draconic shape, and the same small scales rested at the nape of his neck and travelled partway down his back. All of his nails retained a dark, almost black shade and she could almost hear Robbie getting jealous.

 

And he had a bullet wound he hadn’t allowed them to attend on his arm. Wendy excused herself to go get something to clean and wrap it with. Maybe he would be more receptive to her. As she waited for nurses to bring her the materials, the boys had returned with what accumulated as an armful of clothing. “Something’s gonna fit the guy,” Nate said.

 

“Thanks,” she said, carrying medical supplies and clothes back to the bathroom. When she had gotten back, Tambry had successfully cleaned up and shaped his hair. Short on the sides and somewhat puffed up on the top to hide the horns, Wendy gave Tambry a skeptical look. “You did all that with scissors?”

 

“You questioning my skills?” she declared as they then struggled to teach Bill how to put clothes on.

 

\--

 

Mabel sat in the waiting area, leaning against her Grunkle Stan. Her eyes were still wet, but she couldn’t cry anymore. She’d lost her brother and Bill already that day. She hadn’t known she could cry so much. She hadn’t known she could feel this heartsick without actually dying.

 

Wendy and Tambry emerged from the bathroom with a third in tow. Robbie ceased to rub her back comfortably as she looked over at the tall, blonde man wearing one of Robbie’s hoodies and fingerless gloves. He . . . he didn’t look right. It wasn’t because he had one eye—he had one eye.

 

He had. One. Eye.

 

Mabel’s eyes widened and she jumped up, moving toward the three of them with mouth agape. She stopped a few feet from them, looking up with an expression of pure shock.

 

At first the man was expressionless, almost as shocked as she was. Then he gave her a fanged grin. “Star,” he said, his voice less booming than she was used to but just as memorable.

 

She ran into Bill’s arms, and was both astonished and overjoyed that the dragon (now a man) returned the embrace. He picked her up with ease, holding her to his chest she imagined he would be doing to Dipper.

 

If only Dipper were awake for this.

 

\--

 

Dipper had to blink several times for his vision to clear. It was so bright. He . . . he hated fluorescent lights. He groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He flinched, ears sensitive after having been abused. His wrists hurt, but at least they weren’t bound anymore.

 

He heard whimpering, and it moved through his head like water. The next thing he knew, his bed was dipping and something, or someone, was nuzzling his face. He groaned even louder in protest as a familiar voice called his name. Opening his eyes slowly again, he saw Mabel, Grunkle Stan, and Wendy with her gang surrounding his bed. Hospital bed. He was in a hospital bed.

 

And there was a weird blonde man rubbing his face on him.

 

“Dipper, it’s Bill!” Mabel said, shaking his arm. “It’s Bill, he saved you!” Then she was falling on him and the man . . . Bill scooped them both up.

 

Dipper was thoroughly exhausted, head wrapped up and pounding (probably concussed). But he still hugged his sister back and settled in the hold of the one-eyed man. Whether it was that he just wanted to believe they really were all okay or the likely damaging hit to his head, Dipper accepted that it was the dragon holding them. Letting him adjust the twins so he was curled around them, Dipper felt tears spring to his eyes as he recognized Bill’s humming. With his sister meowing in his ear, he listened to everyone talk about how relieved they were he was alright.

 

And clung to Mabel and Bill the whole time.


	15. Chapter 15

The twins had grown over the summer. They’d grown as shifters, and they’d grown as siblings. Their family had also grown in size, though the added member had decreased in size considerably.

 

Bill never turned back into a full-fledged dragon, but still reverted to his half form at times. He also still, very much, acted like the legendary Cipher. The only difference was he’d forfeited his bone hoard for a money hoard. Grunkle Stan had never been so happy to have something guarding the cash register (and the safe in which he kept his additional funds).

 

Ultimately, Bill was the ever-present guardian of Dipper and Mabel. It took him about a month to remember what it was like to be human, but in the end he still ate raw meat and snarled in place of speaking. They were slowly trying to reincorporate normal human nutrition into his diet, but it was an arduous process.

 

Dipper had a mental list of things he had given up on with Bill. Getting Bill to stop picking Mabel up and moving her to Dipper’s bed before lying across both of them was on that list. As was getting him to put on shoes, getting him to call him Dipper and Mabel Mabel, and eating with anything other than his hands. Sometimes, he felt blessed just for having gotten him to put on a shirt and pants.

 

There were other things that Bill had actually taken to rather quickly. Walking upright (most of the time), watching television (without ripping out the cords in pursuit of the source of the images), and using furniture properly were among those things.

 

Every now and then, Dipper would wake up to the windows wide open. Sometimes he even found Bill on Wendy’s spot on the roof. Sometimes he saw the dragon man standing at the edge of the forest and just staring in forlornly. On these moments, Dipper would go stand with him. One time, he quietly asked, “Do you miss it?”

 

The first few times, Bill had not answered. The third . . . a quiet, “No,” fell from the lips of the now human Bill. Bill Cipher. His new, human name. As much as a horned, fanged, slightly scaled man with blackened nails could be human.

 

When Bill looked down at Dipper, he gave him a small smile. But Dipper knew he missed the woods.

 

Perhaps though, he didn’t miss the solitude of the woods.

 

After getting his answer, Dipper led Bill back inside. Sometimes they ventured into the woods together. Sometimes they even ventured as far as the lake. Always they came back to the Mystery Shack. Always they came back home.

 

Then one day their estranged Grunkle Ford came to visit. The fact that their Grunkle Stan had been referred to as Stanford for so long sort of briefly confused them when they met their Grunkle Ford. Before they could inquire the reason for this confusion, however, Grunkle Ford pulled his gun off his shoulder and—

 

Bill snapped and snarled before picking Dipper up and fleeing upstairs. Dipper yelped, and proceeded to spend most of the day barricaded in the attic while Mabel and Grunkle Stan tried reasoning with Bill through the locked door and moved furniture.

 

As it turned out, Grunkle Ford was the actual owner of the property. He had left when poachers started snooping about and Grunkle Stan had moved in in his place and taken his name. Grunkle Ford was a bit more hair-trigger than Grunkle Stan, and Grunkle Stan had been looking for a place to settle down. So while Grunkle Ford had been travelling and researching shifters and other creatures in havens elsewhere rather than just in Gravity Falls, Stan had been getting his life together here. Stan had recently called Ford in an attempt to get him to come visit the twins, but had not succeeded until he mentioned them having been taken by a dragon.

 

He hadn’t let Grunkle Stan explain that said dragon was now human(ish) and living with them.

 

It took about until dinnertime when Dipper was complaining of hunger and Ford had promised he’d hidden all the guns he’d brought for them to leave the room. When they emerged, Ford looked Bill over but Bill didn’t let him approach. He didn’t even let Dipper shake Ford’s hand when said hand was offered. He’d growled and glared Ford down warningly.

 

Needless to say, there was never a dull moment in the Mystery Shack. Never had been, never will be.

 

\--

 

“Did he keep the bone?” Ford asked as he and Ley sat on the front porch with Pitt Colas.

 

“Yep.”

 

They watched the kids playing. The end of summer was drawing near, and they didn’t want to go home. In all honesty, they couldn’t. They were still fluctuating change wise, and therefore were still safest in Gravity Falls.

 

Also, there was the issue that the dragon man wouldn’t let them leave.

 

Ley was glad his brother had finally come when he had called. He could reconnect with the family after all his studying and researching, and he could help him explain to the twins’ parents that the twins now belonged to a mythical beast.

 

Gulping down some cola, Ford asked, “Have you thought of letting me kill him?”

 

“And break their hearts? No. Not happening,” Ley said, making a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Just gotta . . . make him more human. I guess.”

 

Ford snorted. “He hasn’t been human for hundreds of years. I’m surprised he’s come back this much.” Granted, he was lying on his stomach in the dirt while Mabel and Dipper climbed over him. Still as a sleeping hound. “He’s a rather tolerant guardian, if I do say so myself.”

 

“You should see them call him a lizard.”

 

Ford grinned, and Ley grinned back. For a moment, things felt normal again. For a moment, it didn’t feel like they needed to worry about poachers, dragons, and explanations to parents who had entrusted the care of their children to him.

 

Then the grin turned into a frown. “Ugh,” Ford said.

 

“What?” Ley asked suspiciously, taking a long pull from his can.

 

“Wait till they get older. Suddenly, they’ll stop looking like pets and start looking like potential mates—”

 

“Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Ford!” Dipper cried out as he ran to them in excitement. “Look look look look!” he cried, pointing to his head. He had elk ears yes, but he was also now sporting, “Horns!”

 

Sure enough, there behind his bangs sat growing nubs.

 

Ley looked to Ford. “Yeah, we might have to kill him after all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone. This is the end of the Chip and Dip series, but not the end of billdip or writing for me. I just wanted to take the time to say how much your words have meant to me and I hope to see you all again once I get to focus on Get the Chip Off Your Shoulder. Should I do a sequel to this fic, it will be there.
> 
> Much love and appreciation to you all here<33


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